


You'll Make Some bad Friends, and Lose Good Enemies

by Kinkshame_Heathcliff



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Abuse, Deus Ex Machina, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, LMFAO - Freeform, M/M, Murder, The Hunger 1983, Underage Drinking, if you havent seen the hunger u should, in part 2, sorry about that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-11-14 19:04:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18058265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kinkshame_Heathcliff/pseuds/Kinkshame_Heathcliff
Summary: “I don’t fucking like you but-”“I don’t like you much either, you prissy dick hole”“BUT, Okay, let me finish - also I’m gonna ignore that - but I hate your abusive shit stain of a dad even more -”“That’s great Harrington, really original, super helpful, I can’t thank you enough!”“Would you stop being a jerk for like 10 seconds and let me say my fucking part, Billy?! - You’re the dick hole, Billy, and all that shit, but you’re not evil, so what I’m trying to say is: Let’s kill Neil”Billy and Steve are going to kill Neil.





	1. Chapter 1

“I don’t fucking like you but-”

“I don’t like you much either, you prissy dick hole” 

“BUT, Okay, let me finish - also I’m gonna ignore that - but I hate your abusive shit stain of a dad even more -”

“That’s great Harrington, really original, super helpful, I can’t thank you enough!”

“Would you stop being a jerk for like 10 seconds and let me say my fucking part, Billy?! - You’re the dick hole, Billy, and all that shit, but you’re not evil, so what I’m trying to say is: Let’s kill Neil”

Billy and Steve are going to kill Neil. 

The plan doesn’t start that way, but no revenge plan ever really starts with that drastic a course of action. It just kind of develops that way in Steve’s head. Sure, Billy doesn’t know about the plan yet, but he’s gonna, and when he does: Billy and Steve are going to kill Neil. 

Steve’s leaning up against his car, mindlessly chewing the inside of his lip. The hill off the road overlooking the pumpkin farmer’s fields seemed like a good spot this afternoon when he’d told Billy to meet him after school, but now in the harsh late afternoon light everything seems too sharp and too warm. As time goes by he’s starting to sweat, and it’s not only caused by the sun. 

Yeah, he hates Billy, and Billy definitely hates him, but all that just gets pushed to the background when real shit happens. Like demi-dogs, and evil plant tunnels, and Billy’s fucking monster of a father- and that’s the shit that really gets him going, that he can just get away with it; beating his son, conditioning him to turn into another violent asshole. It’s fucked up and he’s sick of just putting up with fucked up shit. When a pack of Demi-dogs surround him and his child gang, Steve defends them. When one of the monsters attacks, he fights back swinging with his favorite bat-turn-medieval-bludgeon. If Neil fucking Hargrove is gonna punch his child to a pulp, Steve’s gonna do something about it. 

That’s why, during lunch earlier that day, Steve walked up to Billy’s table. He was confident enough not to worry too much about how it would go - it was hard to take social ranking too seriously after the plethora of supernatural shit Steve was beginning to deal with on the regular. And Billy sat with a mix of people that didn't intimidate Steve, all equal parts uninteresting and uninterested, the kind who follow whoever chugs the most from that weekend’s keg party. So he tries to be nonchalant when he taps Billy on the shoulder and hands him the note he’d hastily written. He hears Billy sarcastically say 

“This some kinda love letter, Harrington?”

but he just ignores him, instead throwing his hand up noncommittally and going back to his seat next to Nancy and Jonathan. 

 

And maybe that’s why Billy’s not here yet. Maybe Billy won’t show up. What did he write again? It was something along the lines of ‘meet me on the hill by where we left your car after the kids stole it”. Shit, maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say, maybe Billy thinks Steve wants some kind of rematch, or that it was a stupid joke, or…

Steve looks up at the telltale rumbling of Billy’s engine approaching. He lets himself smile for a second, holding back a laugh because he never thought he’d be relieved to see Billy fucking Hargrove. But he definitely is. 

“So what the fuck is this, Harrington.” Billy calls as he pushes his door closed, already lighting a cigarette. “You really wanna start some shit again?”

“Nah Billy, I just wanna talk some shit out.” Steve’s anxiety over his hasty letter was already proving to be not entirely baseless. “Well, not exactly that - I really just, wanna talk about this one thing, I guess, or this idea...”

Billy takes a long drag from his cigarette and looks him over, “Yeah? And what’s that?”

Steve pauses for a moment. 

Where the fuck does he even start with this. 

Shaking his head quickly he decides to just plow forward.

“I don’t fucking like you but-”

“I don’t like you much either, you prissy dick hole.” 

“BUT, okay, let me finish - also I’m gonna ignore that - but I hate your abusive shit stain of a dad even more -”

“That’s great Harrington, really original, super helpful, I can’t thank you enough!”

“Would you stop being a jerk for like 10 seconds and let me say my fucking part, Billy?! - You’re the dick hole, Billy, and all that shit, but you’re not evil, so what I’m trying to say is:  
Let’s kill Neil”

A considerable stillness falls between them, and Steve’s gotta say he’s impressed with himself on how he’s handling the situation - but then he’s flush against his own car, back slamming into the hood.

“I don’t get you, Harrington,” Billy hisses, eyes oddly glassed and mouth twisted in a grimace. “I thought I knew your type - preppy head jock, fucking miss mennonite cinderella, a real suburban story book - ” 

He takes a step back, grabs onto the front of Steve’s shirt, pulling the fabric taught.

“But I don’t get this shit, you gettin’ off on my bullshit like I’m some fucking charity case, and I’m not having it, Harrington. So my dad’s a piece-a’ work and you know it, you think you’re gonna use it against me? ” Billy spits out.

Steve shoves Billy back and stands to his full height, one hand grabbing Billy’s wrist, trying to remove the fist from his shirt. “I’m not bullshitting you, Billy. I mean it! This isn’t some stupid prank, I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” 

As the words come out Steve feels a pang of sadness drudged up from remembering Nancy’s drunken confessional the month before. He wasn’t bullshit. And their relationship - to him at least - wasn’t bullshit like Nancy put it. When he said he loved Nancy he meant it. When he said he’d fix shit with Jonathan he fucking meant it. And when he says he’s going to kill Neil Fucking Hargrove he means it. 

Billy drops his hand releasing Steve’s shirt, Steve’s hand still gripping his wrist. 

“And why should I believe that, Harrington.” His eyes dart up from the ground to meet Steve’s.

“You gotta stop with that last name shit Billy: Harrington? Harrington? My name’s Steve! This isn’t some soap opera! We’re not arch nemesis! We’re just people who don’t like each other, you can call me Steve like everyone else!” Steve’s huffing by the end of his rant. Maybe he should’ve picked a different time to hash that particular point out, but he couldn’t feasibly enter a murder plot with someone who couldn’t even call him by his first fucking name. 

“I dunno, Billy, why did you trust me enough to come here today? If you thought I was fucking with you, why’d you even bother to show up? I don’t play that shit, and I’m not playing you right now. The fact is, I wanna kill your dad, and I want you to do it with me.”

Billy holds Steve’s gaze but doesn't say anything immediately, instead opting to light another cigarette. 

“Well you do talk some shit, Steve.” he enunciates cockily. “How’d we even go about this, how d’you plan to kill my father and get off scotch free?”

“I figured that’s where maybe you’d come in?”

Billy laughs for a beat “What, so you figured I’ve killed somebody? What about me led you to believe that I’ve, oh- you know, casually killed a man?” 

He’s laughing outright now, and Steve thinks it’s the first time he’s seen the expression on him. A genuine smile. 

“Shit, Harrington, you really had me going! You don’t have any plan at all, do you? You seriously thought I’d killed before!”

Steve blushes a bit and rubs the back of his head, probably messing up his hair. “I have the framework of a plan! It just needs, the, well, the rest of it! Can I take this as you saying yes?”

“Sure, Harrington, yes, I’ll help you murder my only biological family member in the state.” 

“Cool. Okay, good to hear.”

Billy turns abruptly and walks back towards his car. “This has really been a trip, but I gotta go grab Max from AV Club before Susan wets herself.” He turns back and points a finger at Steve, winking, “But you keep me updated on this murder plot of yours.”

“Meet here tomorrow then?” Steve calls.

Billy starts his car and begins to pull out, and he’s laughing again. “Sure, Harring— Steve, yeah, I’ll be here.”

Billy’s car kicks up dust clouds as he tears out. Steve coughs for a second before getting back in his car. 

 

He smiles the whole way home. 

 

__________________________________________________________________

 

The next day is strangely normal.

There’s something about stewing up a murder plot that makes one assume the rest of the world is in on it, that the everyday people you encounter are onto you–– but that’s not the case.

The police are not waiting for Steve at his parking spot, and no reporters are shoving their foam covered rods in his face asking for a comment. Instead, leaning against his blue Camaro is Billy Hargrove. 

Had this been any other day, Steve might’ve expected trouble to be in his forecast, but something about the way Billy was leaning was too casual for him to be trying to pick a fight.

Steve steps out of his car slightly cautiously, because Billy is not to be trusted. Yet.

“Susan was watching some new show last night,” Billy says as he turns to Steve, letting out a deep breath of smoke.

“Nothing to write home about honestly, who cares about some old bitch solving crimes, but it gave me an idea I think we should consider.”

Billy takes another drag, and Steve smiles a little. He’s milking this, practically basking like a cat in the sun over his potential idea.

“You gonna tell me, Billy, or what?”

Steve’s face is smoke screened for a moment.

“I thought you’d never ask, Harrington. Poison.” 

“I’m gonna need more than that, Billy, and I thought we went over this last names thing.”

“Well–– Steve, poison is easily concealed, doesn’t leave a bloody trail, and more shit than you’d think around the house can be used for it!”

“Yeah, like what?”

This isn’t a bad idea - in fact, it’s really good. Honestly, Steve had held some fantasies of bashing Neil’s head in with his trusty bat after he lays into Billy, but the gore of the whole thing left a sour taste in his mouth. Steve had seen Evil Dead twice at the drive in last year and didn’t like the gore all that much.

“Well, I think our best bet is Antifreeze, no smell, and it tastes good- but if we’re pressed there’s always drain cleaner.”

“All of this from a tv show? I’m impressed, Hargrove.” Steve laughs out.

“What’s this one sided no last names shit, Princess? And no, I didn’t get it all from the show. I do know a thing or two about dangerous chemicals.” 

Billy winks then flicks his cigarette butt onto the ground and slings his backpack halfway on. Steve lets his eyes linger on Billy’s torso. Why even wear a shirt if you’re only going to button the bottom two buttons? Something about it makes Steve feel claustrophobic, and he quickly snaps his eyes up. 

“It’s a good idea, Billy. Really. Let’s run by the grocery after school and see what our options are.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear, Stevey! But don’t sound so shocked about me being right, you know I can outsmart you on the court, plus I can fuckin wall you.”

And there’s the Billy he knows.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, save it for later, Billy, I’m gonna be late for class. Meet me here after last period. We can head over together.”

Billy stands to his full height and moves much closer to Steve’s person than Steve might like. He doesn't resent Billy like he used to, but his body still shifts into fight or flight mode at the proximity. 

“As you wish, King Steve.” Billy murmurs, leaning into him. Billy’s hand snakes up to Steve’s side and pinches him hard and fast on the hip, his eyebrows cocking up. 

And just like that he’s off, already prowling towards the main building, leaving Steve there alone, slightly embarrassed, and weirdly breathless. 

But Steve can handle weird. Frankly he kinda grooves with weird, it’s his specialty. So he takes a moment and then heads to first period, already rehearsing a lie as to why he’s late. 

__________________________________________________

 

The day passes in that fast-but-slow way most school days do, and before long it’s lunch. Steve has ended up in this awful sadomasochistic ritual of spending his lunch period with Jonathan and Nancy. They’re his only two friends. They're also totally boning, and he’s happy for them! Really, he is! That’s great for them... just not for him. So he sits down to endure yet another friendly lunchtime and takes perhaps too aggressive a bite from his apple. 

“How’d I know King Steve would be the type to eat rabbit food?” 

Billy’s voice comes from behind him dripping with smugness, and this explains the expression Jonathan and Nancy have. Their grimaces are honestly an improvement to Steve, who’s more than acclimated to their smitten glows. 

He takes his time fully chewing and swallowing his bite of apple before turning his body to the side to face Billy. 

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, Billy, but one of these bad boys a day keeps the doctor away.”

Billy looks impassive for a moment, then gradually lets a smiles crack his face. It’s still off putting to Steve - this is the third time in 24 hours Billy’s given him a warm expression. A week ago Billy looked like he was about to start frothing at the mouth with how much he hated him. Now he’s smiling at his jokes. 

“What do you want, Billy?” Nancy interjects, and the ice in her voice is really something Steve wasn’t expecting. But Nancy is full of unexpected things.

Billy’s eyes stay on Steve. 

“Nothing from you, Wheeler. Harrington here and I have some unfinished business we need to discuss.”

“We do?” 

This is news to Steve.

“Yeah we fucking do, Harrington, now come to the parking lot.”

Against his better judgement he gets up and follows Billy out, leaving Nancy and Jonathan with matching faces of nervous bewilderment.

Steve follows Billy at a safe distance, and is pleasantly surprised when they actually do seem to be heading towards the parking lot. 

“I’ve had enough of this shit today, let’s cut class and go shopping, Stevey.”

Billy has called Steve four different names now–– none of which are his own, technically, and it’s equal parts perplexing and annoying (and also strangely endearing). 

“Billy, I’m not skipping class. Nancy already thinks I’m a joke and I’m failing English.”

“You know it’s strange, Steve, that you draw the line of misbehaving at cutting class when we’re literally planning to murder my fucking dad.”

Steve stops walking and stares at Billy. 

“I guess you’re right,” he says.

Billy turns around for a moment and stops too. 

“Getting cold feet, King Steve, or is your moral ambiguity finally catching up with you?”

“Honestly, Billy, I don’t even know what that means.” Steve spits out, because this is frustrating. All he wants to do is the right thing, and why does that mean he has to do something wrong to achieve that? He knows killing someone is wrong, he’s not some psychopath, but when the police can’t even fix something as simple as a father beating the shit out of his son, a man is driven to extremes. 

“Shit, Harrington, you really are failing English, aren’t you?” 

“Fuck off Billy.” Steve says, but continues walking towards the parking lot, closing the distance between them.

“Ambiguity - it means you’re open to letting shit have more than one meaning. Think about, killing a murderer because they murder people. That makes you a murderer too right? But you’re also a hero for killing him. That’s pretty ambiguous.”

“Shit, Billy, what’re you trying to say?! Has Neil killed someone?”

“No, Princess, it’s just an example. Neil’s a piece of shit, but he’s never killed anyone,” Billy laughs his panic off. 

Billy’s face is so different when he’s not scowling. Steve’s not afraid to admit that Billy’s handsome, what with his muscles, long hair, and California wardrobe - he knows half the girls in Hawkins would jump him in a heartbeat. But the scowl ruins it, makes him look like a rabid animal. 

“Is it really that shocking to you?” Billy asks, letting the amusement fall off his face, his laugh trailing off.

Steve hadn’t realized he was staring. 

“No, no, it’s not - sorry, I was just thinking.”

Billy’s eyes get an odd twinkle and his right eyebrow twitches. 

“Yeah, and what were you thinking about, Steve?” His tone is predatory and low, and it makes Steve’s belly do flips of either fear or excitement, but he’s in no frame of mind to figure out which right now. 

“Nothing, Billy. Just what you were saying about ambiguity. I was thinking you’re right. C’mon, let’s leave before we get caught.”

“Didn’t yah know, Steve, all the fun’s in getting caught.”

And he winks at him before jogging off to his Camaro.

“Get in, Princess, it’ll be less suspicious if we only take one car.”

And since Billy has proven his logic is surprisingly sound on two separate occasions today, he does. 

Billy’s car smells overwhelmingly like him. Warm and spicy; heady like a mix of vanilla and tobacco. It’s almost too much as Steve inhales. 

“Don’t start hyperventilating on me over playing hooky, Princess, we haven’t even left the block yet.”

Steve lets out a small laugh and relaxes into the seat, watching the mundanity of Hawkins whisk by. 

Billy drives like a maniac, the rumble of his Camaro escalating as they careen around corners and through residential roads. Steve’s knuckles whiten as he grips the edges of his seat more severely after a particularly sharp turn. 

Billy notices this, and the Road Warrior-like driving gradually transitions into something more ambling. Stop signs are more readily adhered to, and the vibrations coming through his seat subside to a gentle purr. Billy doesn’t say anything about it, and Steve doesn’t acknowledge it either, but as he lets go of his seat he notices a grin playing across Billy’s face. And that’s–– that’s something Steve doesn’t know how to interpret. 

It’s kind?

They pull into the local grocery store’s parking lot, and find it expectedly quiet, most families already having done their shopping by now. 

Billy’s flashy Camaro stands in stark contrast to the rest of the cars in the lot. Steve feels like he’s in Grease as he steps out of it, walking around front to meet Billy, who’s finishing a cigarette he’d started in the car during the drive. 

Steve likes this grocery store. He has fond memories of getting a free sugar cookie from the bakery as a child shopping with his mom. Only complaining when he’d finished it and they still had more shopping to do. He hasn’t been inside here since he was nine or ten, opting to stay home then and being old enough that his mother let him. 

“This way,” Billy says, confidently leading Steve through the aisles, “they keep some basic car maintenance stuff over here.” 

And it makes perfect sense that Billy would know exactly where the beauty products for his car are. Billy takes impeccable care of it. Matter of fact, Billy takes impeccable care of himself. Billy’s hair is the mirror image of the ringlets from some trash romance novel cover, not that Steve’s ever read any of those. Even though the lack of buttoning throws him, Steve has to admit he has style. It makes him self conscious over his own clothing. Steve had never really paid too much attention to it til now.

“Where do you get your shirts, Billy?” He asks.

Billy, who’d been up until now reaching for something on the shelf, pauses and looks at him. It’s a searching look, one trying to decipher whether Steve’s intentions are pure or at his expense. 

“A mix of places, Princess. Honestly nowhere around here. I brought all my stuff with me from California. They’ve got tons of shops and malls there that would knock your preppy socks off.”

“Sounds nice.” Steve says, and he means it. He can picture the sun and the lifestyle he associates with the beachside, and Billy somewhere in that. 

“Yeah it was nice,” Billy says wistfully, “Anyways you can borrow one of em’ sometime. I've got plenty. It’d be funny to see your preppy ass in something other than polos and sweaters.”

“Hey, I’ve got more than that!” 

And Billy is laughing at him. His smile reaches his eyes and crinkles them, and Steve thinks he looks beautiful. 

And that’s confusing. 

“If we’re done talking about my shirts, Princess, let’s get back to work.”

Billy grabs two different bottles of antifreeze, one in each hand. Prestone and Starbrite.

“Now which one do we want? Personally I think there’s something kinda symbolic about using Starbrite for this.” Billy says with a wicked grin.

“Yeah, Starbrite has a nice ring to it,” Steve says, “which one do you normally use?”

“It’s a bit warm for antifreeze, boys.”

They both freeze. Steve is the first to recover and quickly turns around to see Hopper looking confused.

“Hi Hopper, how’re yah?”

“I’m fine Steve, I’m just trying to figure out why you boys are being so proactive about buying antifreeze when it’s only November and the first freeze isn’t expected to happen till the end of December.”

Steve doesn’t have an answer for that. Luckily for them both, Billy does, quickly relaxing his posture and gesturing noncommittally to the rows of product behind him.

“Yeah it’s not expected, Sir, but I don’t know about you, but I don’t trust weathermen at all. Plus I’m not about to wait for the first freezing day to try to buy this, what with most of it likely to sell out. They’ll probably jack the prices up.”

Billy is a genius, Steve has decided. He’s cunning, and coercive, and a genius.

Hopper considers this for a moment before nodding his head, clearly buying the story.

“That’s some smart thinking, boys.” Hopper says before another thought crosses his face, and he says, with an edge of questioning, “I didn’t know you two were friends.”

This time, it’s Steve’s turn to take the reins.

“We’re both on the basketball team. During gym today Billy was telling me about how his last car got real damaged over the winter, so I thought I’d let him show me what I should get.”

Steve feels great about this. Billy’s lying skills have really kicked up some of his own. 

“Aren’t you from California, son?”

Oh fuck. Steve isn’t Billy. 

“Yeah, I am, I do a lot of driving though. My mom lives in a different state every other year it seems. I’ve gotten real used to long haul driving in all kinds of weather.”

Steve is in awe at how seamlessly Billy has picked up the loose ends of his unraveling lie and neatly put them back together. Fuck sports, he should be an actor.

Hopper’s face looks sad in an understanding way he can’t place.

“That’s good of you, kid. Now, shouldn't the both of you be in school for say,” Hopper checks his watch, “Three more hours?”

“We were on our way there now, Sir, just decided to pick this up quick during lunch.” Billy says, one hand gently pressing the middle of Steve’s back, acting like a guide.

“Okay, well, don’t make a habit of it, boys. I’ll see you around Steve. You stay outta trouble Billy.”

“See yah, Hop.” Steve says, as he walks away with Billy, who’s hand is now a comfortable presence on his lower back. 

They wait until they get back in Billy’s car to really say anything, the rustling of the completely unnecessary plastic bag acting as their only soundtrack until then. 

Billy turns to Steve, clearly angry.

“Well there goes that fucking plan.”

“What’d yah mean?” Steve asks, because he thought that actually went really well all things considered.

“Chief fucking Hopper saw us together buying antifreeze, dumbass!”

It still makes no sense to Steve so he says nothing, waiting for Billy to explain. 

“Steve, if we kill Neil with antifreeze, Chief Hopper will definitely be there to investigate. And when he sees that my dad’s dead because someone poisoned him with antifreeze - and if he uses even a fraction of his brain - he’ll maybe suspect that his son, who’s on record of being fucking kicked the shit out of by his dad, who he saw buying antifreeze at the grocery store a week ago, might possibly have something to do with it!”

And that makes sense now. 

“Fuck, you’re totally right.”

It takes a moment before Billy calms down, but then he laughs.

“That must be the tenth time you’ve told me that today Steve. I’ve gotta say, it doesn’t lose its appeal.”

Billy flicks his car on and puts one hand behind Steve’s seat. 

“Well Princess, looks like we’re back to the drawing board.”

Billy drives back to school, speeding only a little, the now useless bottle of antifreeze mocking them on the floor.

_________________________________________________________________

Steve holds up his members only jacket and looks at himself in the mirror. 

Nice color, a quick sniff tells him it’s clean enough, and it’s useful for the nippy November weather. He doesn’t know if it goes with his shirt, though, and how does one even know if something goes with a shirt? Is it the fabric or color that matters more? This is something Billy probably knows. 

Steve lets out a small sigh of defeat and decides that this will have to do, even if the shirt doesn’t work. He’ll ask Billy about it later. 

He grabs his bag and trots down the stairs, slips his favorite Nike’s on, and heads out the door. 

Steve’s drives to school are always nice. It’s one of the few chances he gets a day to really air out his thoughts and clear his head. Today he’s decidedly set on the task at hand. They’ve gotta come up with a new idea for how they’re going to kill Neil, and it’s times like these that he wishes he were more creative, because he keeps cycling back to the same few bad ideas, all of which involve a gun or other weapon. 

And while technically the revenge of it all might feel great, and he kinda loves the theatrics, the reality of the gore those would bring is unnerving. Thinking about the guts, and maybe brain matter, and matted hair. The hair really gets him, and that’s what makes this totally not an option. Even though it’s the only thing he can come up with. 

As he turns into the parking lot he finds his usual spot empty - the cars sandwiching his the typical ones, the blue Camaro nowhere in sight, and it’s dumb, but he’s disappointed. It’s not that he really expected Billy to be waiting there for him again, but he had thought that he might be. Maybe he’d have another great idea, some new tactic neither of them had really thought of until then.

But Billy isn’t there, and Steve doesn’t have any new ideas.

He gets out of his car and walks to first period, arriving a few minutes before the bell. His seat is cold, and he’s already tired as he watches the majority of the class settling in. His first period is U.S. History, and it’s a personal curse that he has to sit through the class that’s the easiest to pass out in when he’s the most likely to. This day is kinda shitty so far, and it’s only 8am.

The shrill ringing of the bell sounds eventually, and with it everyone makes their way into the hallway.

He spots Nancy and Jonathan not far from his locker and starts making his way towards them. Their vomit inducing intimacy is preferable to his so far silent day. 

He opens his mouth to say hey when an elbow knocks into him, sending him into the lockers beside him. 

“Watch where you’re going, Harrington.”

Steve looks up to see Tommy. This is so stupid. Tommy hadn’t been anywhere near him two seconds ago, this clearly wasn't coincidental at all. And Steve doesn’t know what to do. Sure he could stand up for himself and lay into Tommy’s stupid fucking face, but then what? Get suspended, flunk a class, get kicked off the basketball team?

He rallies for a moment before fully regaining his height, slinging his fallen backpack onto his arm.

“Sorry, Tommy, I didn't see you there!” He tries to sound overly jovial.

“Yeah you fuckin’ didn’t.” Tommy spits out, clearly pissed that Steve isn’t choosing to pick a fight.

And it’s shit like that which makes it easier to ignore Tommy and his crew. He’s not witty like Billy. Tommy’s not a weakling by any means, he can hold his own, and in some instances even overpower Steve. But he’s–– well, he makes Steve look like an honors student. 

“What’s happening over here?”

And of course Billy picks now to show up. He walks over to Tommy with his usual swagger, and looks at Steve. 

“Hiya, King Steve,” Billy says full of a mocking venom, “Pretty rude of you to be bumping into people.” 

And this is typical Billy. Steve’s an idiot for thinking anything else.

Steve bypasses anymore talking, heads off toward the now staring Jonathan and Nancy, only to fall on the floor completely this time from a swift tripping kick from Billy.

“So damn clumsy, Harrington, really something you manage to stay on the team.”

Steve’s ankle stings, but he gets up and walks away.

He’s so angry. Billy’s a fucking phony, and doesn’t deserve anything. 

“What the fuck’s his problem?” Nancy spits out. She’s grabbing at his arm like she used to when they were together, Jonathan following in her wake.

“They’re fuckin’ pricks.” Jonathan adds, and Steve remembers why he likes him.

“Thanks guys, but I gotta get to next period.” 

He brushes Nancy off his arm in a way he hopes is polite. He’s thankful to have them as his friends, but he’s just never been a fan of performative sympathy, even when it feels authentic. 

He makes it to English right as the bell is ringing, and sits down for what’s sure to be another 45 minutes of life wasted. His shoulder throbs a bit, but it’s nothing serious. 

He’ll be fine, he just needs to get through the day.

__________________________________

“We’re going to college together!” Nancy all but shrieks at Jonathan who’s locked in a constricting hug. 

The news had apparently been brought to her attention an hour ago, but this was the first time she’d seen Jonathan since then.

Of course Nancy would be able to get into any college she wanted. She was definitely the smartest girl Steve knew. Probably the smartest girl in the state. But the odds of her and Jonathan both getting accepted to a college with a rigorous program and competitive standing were pretty slim.

“Congrats, guys!” Steve chimes in.

Nancy lets go of Jonathan and beams at Steve, her face flushed from the excitement. 

“God, I’m so excited Steve! Jonathan got his letter first, so I assumed I just must’ve not gotten accepted, then my mom called the office to tell them she’d gotten something in the mail and–– I'm just so happy!”

“Seriously guys, I'm so happy for you two!” 

He tries to mean it, he really does. They’re so lucky, being together, going to college together, maybe getting jobs together and advancing their careers. Having children, and making sure they have the very best...

It’s just, he’s so jealous of them. 

The certainty of their future is so set in stone, and it’s so large and probably eventful, and all Steve knows is Hawkins. He can’t compete. 

He feels alone and useless. Even Billy Hargrove thinks he’s an idiot. He was so stupid to think Billy had changed, that they were friends. And here go the only two people he has as actual friends, ready to leave him for their big bright future together! 

He feels sick. He gets that awful jolted feeling like after he’s been hit. 

Then his head is rushing with that awful panicked feeling he’d only ever felt before when dealing with real shit. Like monsters, and plants, and well, come to think of it, Billy. It’s like someone’s cracked an egg of cold dread and it’s dripping down his head and spine. He walks as quick as he can towards an exit without trying to draw attention to himself. He just needs air. To be outside, and just breathe for a minute. 

The doors creak their objection as he shoves past. He’s thankful for the cool air and breeze. He takes deep breaths, tries to recenter himself. Backing against the wall, he lets his hands explore the road-like grooves between the bricks, comparing the two rough but entirely different textures. 

It takes a few minutes for him to calm down. That awful need to escape subsides into a more manageable distress. He opens his eyes and begins to fully take in his surroundings. 

And this day just keeps getting worse: always the king of inopportune timing, swaggering over to him from the parking lot, is Billy fucking Hargrove. 

“Cutting class again, Princess?” he asks, “We leave early one time and now you’re a regular truant.”

“Fuck off, Billy.” Steve spits out, because he doesn't want to play at this.

“Jesus, what’s got your panties twisted up, Stevey?” Billy questions as he joins Steve against the wall. 

“You, Billy! Look, I’m not expecting for us to be best friends because we’re in on a project together, but if you’re gonna keep being an asshole to me in public the least you can do is give me a heads up!”

He huffs for a second, feeling ruffled again, but presses on, because when’s the next time he’s gonna be able to say this?

“I’m not trying to fucking sing Kumbaya, I’d just fucking like it if you’d - if you could leave me alone. I didn’t, I just didn’––“

And he’s so embarrassed, and angry, and sad, and he feels the tears welling up, their presence a caustic burn on his eyes and ego. Steve turns his head to look away in an attempt to hide his face, because the last thing he needs right now is for Billy to see this.

But it’s too late, apparently - Billy’s hand grips his chin and turns his head back. He gives Steve a long look, an impassive stare. Steve’s waiting for the moment Billy punches him in the eye, or sneers at him. To do any number of things that involve him getting wrecked. 

Instead, Billy’s thumb strokes his jaw, silence still between them. 

Steve’s so confused. Billy gently moves his hand around his jaw and face, presses gingerly into it like people do with baby’s to have them make silly expressions.

“Noted” Billy eventually says. He brings his other hand to Steve’s face and drags his finger under both of his eyes, collecting the moisture. Slowly he brings his hand back to his mouth, moving from the knuckle to the tip, never breaking eye contact with Steve. 

Then he turns away and swiftly creaks through the doors back into the building. 

Somewhere a car’s honking its horn, and the leaves rustle in the trees, but Steve stays staring off into space, taking none of it in. He replays the last few moments in his mind on repeat, exhausted to a point of numbness. 

He rustles through his backpack to find his keys, and jogs off towards his car. 

He’s had enough of this day,5 he’s decided. 

As he steps in he notices his reflection in the mirror. The shirt definitely doesn’t go with the jacket. He wonders if Billy even noticed.

____________________________________________

There’s an awful noise. 

It’s repetitious, and abrasive, and just the worst. Steve throws his covers off and rubs his eyes, the day streaming back to him. He’s in that awful post nap delusion, where everything is confusing, and he feels slightly nauseated. He glances over to his bedside and checks his clock. 

6:30 pm.

He’d been asleep for 5 hours then, which is quite an impressive feat. It’s funny how some days he’s so exhausted for no real physical reason.

The knocking comes again, and that must’ve been what woke him up, so he pats down the stairs in his socks and opens up the front door. Perhaps he should be more cautious with this sort of thing given the supernatural terror that’s becoming the norm in Hawkins, but between the mix of sleep delirium and a thoroughly average suburban upbringing, he doesn’t overthink it. 

Billy’s standing there, looking at him, bemused. 

“So this is what Sleeping Beauty’s castle looks like up close?”

“Shut up, Billy.” Steve says, but it lacks any conviction.

“I’m just trying to get this straight–– you skipped school to take a long ass nap?” 

Billy’s clearly picking on him, but Steve finds he doesn’t mind. It’s not his usual venomous taunting. This feels playful and easy. 

Steve takes in Billy’s full outfit. He’s wearing his staple denim jacket over a white ribbed basic tee and his skinniest blue jeans. He looks like an ad for California, but it’s really too cold out to only be wearing that.

“Yeah, Billy, I did. Now come inside before all the warm air drains out.”

“Wrong move, Princess! You never invite a vampire into your home!”

Steve laughs as Billy rushes him, shoving him inside and against the nearest wall, the front door clicking shut behind him. 

Steve’s laughing to a frightful point, and Billy joins in too, releasing Steve from his grip and taking the room in.

“Shit, Steve, I forget you’re so loaded.” 

Billy plops onto his couch and kicks his feet up on the table.

“Where’re your folks, anyways? They wouldn’t be happy if they knew little Stevey was cutting class.”

“They're away for Business, and you need to take your shoes off, Billy. The last time I had people over when they were away someone died. It’s been different since then. A new stain on the rug might throw em’ overboard.”

Billy’s eyes have a mischievous gleam, but he obliges anyway. His boots thud to the floor as he regains his previous position. 

“So, Steve. Any new ideas?” he asks.

“No… I’m sorry, I was trying to come up with some this morning but nothing seemed right, then the day kinda got away from me.”

He pauses for a moment, then looks at Billy because he needs to hold some accountability for this.

“I’ve had a really awful day, Billy.”

Billy shifts in the sofa, clearly uncomfortable with where the conversation is going.

“I reckon I’ve got something to do with that.” He turns his gaze to the floor, his hands jammed in the side pockets of his jacket.

“––I’m, I’m sorry Steve.” 

His voice is so small Steve barely hears it.

“That’s o––I, I forgive you Billy. It wasn’t only you, it was just a bad day honestly. Jonathan and Nancy were being so fucking happy, and Tommy was being such a cock as always––“

“No, Princess. I - I saw Tommy pick a fight and I - I don’t know.”

Billy pauses and looks at his hands, then glance around the room, a strained look on his face. 

“I’m…. sorry I hurt you”

Now he’s looking directly at Steve, and Steve can feel the sincerity of it. 

“It’s okay Billy. I forgive you.”

Billy nods and Steve smiles.

“But now actually since I have you here, I have a question. When I got home earlier I tried putting the antifreeze we bought in my car. I figured why not, right? I read the back and I think I did it right, but I want you to check before I take her out again”

Billy sits up from his slouch. 

“You were doing it inside your garage?” There’s an edge to Billy’s voice, and Steve is almost hurt. He’d honestly expected Billy to be impressed with him over this, not pissy.

“Yeah, I was? It’s cold out? Wait, how’re you from California and you’re not put off by how cold it is at all? I’ve lived here my whole life and I still think it’s fuckin’ freezing.”

“Yeah I am, but it’s–– that’s not the point. Steve you can’t do that. Your car was on during this, right?”

“Yeah for a bit? I wanted to listen to the radio.”

“You’re a fucking moron, Harrington.” Billy bites out, and Steve’s a little scared at how angry Billy is over nothing.

“Didn’t your parents ever tell you about CO?! People fucking die everyday because every car ever made produces it. It’s a gas, so if you let it collect in a closed space, a’la’ your fucking garage, it’ll kill you quicker than you can even react.”

“I didn’t know.” 

One of Billy’s hands grips Steve’s shoulder while the other falls to his side, his leg pressed in-between Steve’s. Within a few seconds Steve is essentially caged in by just Billy’s body.

“I fucking hope you didn’t. You could’ve died, Steve.” And Billy’s voice is so intense and close. Close enough that he can feel his breath as he says it, and smell the remnants of his last cigarette. 

Steve takes a breath, and lets himself inhale how Billy smells. It’s so warm up close, spicy, and a bit musky with a hint of ginger. Billy makes no move to release him, instead his leg presses in deeper, his thigh now flush against Steve’s crotch - which is going to be a problem very soon. 

“Well, I won’t do that next time.” Steve says in a small, petulant voice. Something about the situation makes him feel like he’s a misbehaving child. 

“That’s for sure.” Billy breathes into his ear. And when did Billy’s face get this close to his face? Sure they’ve been physically close plenty of times before, whether it’s on the court or during a fight, but this is different. 

“Next time you try to do anything with that car of yours, you give me a call, Princess, and I’ll be there.” 

Steve can’t help it. It’s just the closeness he thinks, and maybe because he hasn’t gotten laid in months now, but he can feel his excitement building up in his groin. The telltale signs of a boner beginning to show. And he’s sure Billy can feel it, he’s sure that he’s going to make fun of him, or even beat him up for it, but then - then something hits him.

“Oh my god, Billy, I could’ve died!” Steve exclaims pushing back with some success, the better part of his body still under Billy’s control.

“Great job accepting that, Steve, but I thought we’d gotten around this?”

“Yeah, I know, Billy, but like, I really could’ve died that way! And it would’ve been entirely my fault! No real investigation into it because this kinda thing happens all the time!”

And Steve loves, he really, really, loves watching the realization cross Billy’s face. It’s intense, and wicked, and his smile is something more complex than words can describe in Steve’s opinion. 

“Oh, I’d say you’re fucking right, Steve.”

“Mmh, it does feel nice hearing that, doesn’t it?” Steve says mockingly “I get your point about it now.” 

And then Billy wraps his arms around him, and hugs him. It’s a hard hug full of muscle, one that softens over the moments. Steve takes a second, but hugs back just as earnestly, letting his nose go into Billy’s hair, once again getting lost in the scent of him. It’s more intense here, and much sweeter. Billy’s hands are rubbing at Steve’s back and he can feel tingles of pleasure everywhere Billy’s body touches his. He can hear Billy laughing through his brain fog, and knows that if this hug lasts any longer it might get weird, so he pulls back and grins from ear to ear. 

“I guess I’ve got our new perfect murder, Billy.”

“Time for Neil to do some indoor car improvements.”

 

_________________________________________________________________

 

“Yeah my Dad’s out of town for a work convention, and my mom’s gonna be upstate”

The girl is pretty, Steve thinks. Tousled blonde hair, and an attractively curvy small frame. She’s trying her best at a nonchalant lean, but what’s off-putting is her voice, which sounds like it’s teetering on the verge of mania. He can’t blame her though, it’s not the easiest thing to just talk to Billy. 

“Anyways, you should stop by. It’ll be fun, like, everyone is coming.”

She lets a giggle trail off as she walks away. Steve realizes that Billy never gave her an answer, instead just kinda grinned at her and nodded. He’s rifling through his locker again and—

“Hey Steve!”

The aforementioned girl is now somehow right beside him. She must’ve taken some roundabout path to him because Steve swears she came outta nowhere. 

“I’m throwing a party tomorrow night, I’d love to see you there.”

“Yeah, Yeah sure I’ll come, sounds great”

She’s beaming as she heads off. 

He’s a little embarrassed, though, because he can’t for the life of him remember her name. It seems an important thing to know when you’re going to a party held by said person. 

He walks over to Billy, who’s shoving papers carelessly into his bag.

“Do you remember her name?” He asks.

“Not a chance, Stevey.” 

Steve laughs, and Billy gives him a mischievous grin.

“Will you be gracing this party with your presence then, your majesty?”

“I was thinking about it- yeah… are you?”

“I’ll have to check my schedule. Wasn't really planning on it, but now that I know the King of Hawkins will be attending I just might.”

On the other end of the hallway Nancy and Jonathan— who now are attached at the hip always, apparently, are posted up. 

“See yah’ there, Billy.” Steve says with a wink as he walks away

Billy’s face is a battleground once again, something like anger fighting off a battalion of what might be humor all while bludgeoning a swiftly forming blush. 

Steve needs to stop letting the kids talk him into D&D nights - while they’ve proven to be invaluable sources for new adjectives, they’ve also turned his mind into a permanent medieval fair.

“Sup’ guys,” Steve says walking up to where Nancy and Jonathan are talking.

“Hey!” Nancy says, and Steve’s getting better at this. Where once he thought Nancy’s poker face indecipherable, and capable of anything, he now can spot key features that mean she’s thinking about something.

So he waits, letting her chew it over obviously, and turns to Jonathan. 

“So are you guys going to this party?” he asks.

“Seeing as I haven’t been invited, that’s a no from me.” Jonathan replies, “Who’s party is it anyways?”

“That’s a really good question, man. I really don’t know her name, but it looks like it’s gonna be a good time, and she seems like the fun type.”

Steve’s gonna sell this party if it kills him. It’s just what he needs honestly: his friends, alcohol, music— good times abound. 

“Steve, what was Billy talking to you about just now?”

Typical Nancy! The best at catching Steve entirely off guard. 

“Was he threatening you or something, Steve? You can tell us if he is.” she continues.

“Really, Steve, you can talk to us, it’s better if we all know.” Jonathan adds.

Steve is trying his hardest to channel Billy’s unshakable charisma when he’s lying. He’s just gotta be like Billy and this’ll be easy.

“Oh yeah, didn’t know you guys saw that. Billy didn’t show up to practice the other day, I thought it might’ve had something to do with me. I was just making sure he wasn’t gonna miss any more.”

Jonathan and Nancy are maybe, almost, buying it? Their faces are both incredulous but maybe on the right path to being satiated. 

“Sorry guys, didn’t mean to worry yah.”

“No, no, it’s alright Steve, I was just worried. Billy’s such a dick , and I saw him trip you the other day- so, well— I wanted to make sure you weren't gonna do something stupid.”

Steve can’t help but grin at her over this.

“Did you really think I was picking a fight with Billy Hargrove?”

“I dunno, Steve! I was thinking lots of things and none of them were good for you.” Nancy says, but she’s smiling now too.

“Back to the important subject, are we three amigos going to the fiesta tonight or what?” Steve says because this is too vital of him to let go.

“I don’t have any other plans.”

“I wasn’t invited.”

“Great, we’re going!”

___________________________________________

Steve reaches into his sock drawer and pulls out the piece of paper Billy’d written his number on. He’d been given very specific instructions to only call after dark, but before ten or else Neil would be angry. 

He dials the number and waits.

The cool plastic of his phone feels sticky from the nervous sweat on his hands. What’s the worse that can happen? Billy’s not home, oh well, too bad, he’ll move on.

“Hello.” comes a hard voice - this must be Neil. Steve had never placed a voice with the name before. It’s strange hearing the voice of someone you’re planning on killing.

“Hi, Mr. Hargrove! Is Billy home? It’s Steve, his lab partner from Science— I wanted to ask if he had our lab sheet from today with him?”

“Yeah, yeah, one minute.” Neil says, apparently buying the lie.

He can hear movement on the other end of the line as Billy’s dad walks with the phone.

“What’s up?” 

“Hey.”

“So it really is you, Harrington, thought Neil was drunk.”

“I have a serious question, and you can’t make fun of me for it—”

“Can’t make any promises about that, now.”

“Well don’t, I really- I need help figuring out what to wear tonight, and I know you know about that, and I figured I had your number so why not shoot my shot, and I—

“I’ll be there in 20 minutes, Steve.”

The line goes dead and Steve’s more than a little mortified at himself. He’s Steve Harrington! He’s suave and cool! The kids look up to him for it. But here he is once again making an idiot of himself in front of Billy Hargrove.

He sets the phone down, and begins to sort through his clothes, organizing it into heaps of “maybe” and “definitely not”. 

________________________________

He can hear Billy’s car before he can see it. The loud rumble of it like some mechanical monster prowling Hawkins for its next meal. 

He’s prepped some drinks already so they can pre-game while getting dressed.

The doorbell rings and Steve waits for a beat to pretend like he’s not been anticipating this.

He swings the door open with a smile.

“Thanks so much for doing this, Billy.”

“No problem, Princess.” Billy walks inside confidently. He has the demeanor of owning the place. And maybe he does somehow. 

Billy has his backpack slung onto his back, which is a little odd because that’s not his usual style.

“Where’d you wanna do this?”

“Oh, upstairs I guess, I’ve got some shit setup in my bedroom.”

Steve grabs the drinks and leads Billy upstairs.

“I made some drinks so we can pregame if you want?” Steve says once they get in his room.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Billy says grabbing one.

He lays back on Steve’s bed and puts one arm behind his head, his eyes full of mock chauvinism. 

“Now show me the options, pretty boy.”

Steve’s blushing. 

He turns away from Billy and contemplates what to put on first. As he goes to take his shirt off he’s hit with a wave of self-consciousness. He’s happy enough with his body - he’s not ripped like Billy, but he also isn’t flabby. Plus he’s been naked with Billy plenty of times in the shower after gym, so it’s dumb for him to be awkward about this. 

He casts his shirt to the floor and begins to put on the first option, a dark blue button down, when Billy whistles. 

He slips the shirt on, and turns to Billy. 

“I’ve seen priests show more skin.”

Steve laughs and unbuttons the shirt a bit.

“We’re getting somewhere now, but you’re still too conservative for a Friday night party, Princess.”

He’s flushed now he knows, but luckily his face is kinda concealed at this angle anyways, so he continues to unbutton his shirt.

“Maybe now it’s okay, but I have a better idea” 

Billy gets up from the bed and grabs his bag, he then pops the single button holding his shirt together and tosses it to Steve.

Steve catches it easily, and stares at Billy. He’s so confident and cool. His eyes hold contact with Steve’s even when Steve’s trail off to take in his full stature. His abs are seriously unfair. 

“Try that on, Harrington.”

The shirt is a deep maroon, with small black buttons. It feel so intimate as he slips on the viscose fabric of Billy’s already warm shirt. He must smell like Billy now he thinks, and it’s engulfing and strange, and the shirt drapes like sex across him. And it feels good. 

He looks up at Billy, who’s not attempting to conceal his stare.

“That’s something I never thought I’d see.”

“I like it, Billy.”

“I do too.”

Steve turns away because he needs a moment to collect himself. It’ll be too cold to only wear this, so now he’s tasked with finding a jacket to wear. 

“Wear the black one you wore yesterday.”

Billy must be reading his mind now too. Maybe he really is a vampire. 

“Did you see The Hunger last year?” Steve says turning around to face Billy who’s now wearing a new shirt he must’ve brought with him. This one is black.

“Are you making a pass at me, Mr. Harrington?” Billy rasps.

“Steve,” he corrects. 

“Steve?”

“Not that I'm aware of, Billy” He says playing along. 

“Good memory, Stevey.” Billy winks at him and drains his drink.

“Not that I’m not enjoying this bullshit party we’re preparing to go to, but we do have some work that needs to be done.”

Steve’s thought about this too. 

“Yeah, I’ve got some ideas.” he says.

Billy now casually takes Steve’s glass and begins to sip from it.

“Beauty and brains, ladies and gentlemen.”

“Shut it,” he giggles out, but continues, “So it's really not too complex. We’ve just gotta make it look like Neil was doing some car maintenance or repairs. Setup the car in his garage, place some tools around it, maybe an open beer, some oil—who knows. Then we turn the car on, and wait a bit.”

Billy nods. “How’re we getting him in there?”

“I haven’t fully thought that one through. We might just have to knock him out or something, then drag him in.” Steve says, and he knows he has a penchant for revenge, so maybe this is the happy medium?

“That won’t work, Princess. If the police find any signs of a struggle it’ll make the whole ‘unfortunate accident’ angle seem unlikely.”

“So he’s gotta somehow end up in there on his own?”

“That’s the trick.”

And while this is important, it’s really not what Steve wanted to do tonight. Tonight is about having fun and not worrying. Especially not worrying about a murder plot. 

“Wanna head out soon?” He says in an attempt to divert the conversation.

He turns and takes another look at himself in the mirror. He feels…hot? Desirable in a way he’s never experienced. He’s felt cool before, sure— but this is different, he feels weaponized almost. 

Billy comes behind him, one hand gripping his side, his fingers dipping into his pocket while his thumb stays firm on his hip bone.

“Don’t worry, Dorian, your beauty’s not fading yet.”

Steve’s heart begins to beat like it does when he’s in the middle of a game. 

“What’d you think of The Hunger, Billy?”

“Eh, what’s not to like? Vampires, two hot chicks going at each other, Bowie? I liked it a lot.”

“Yeah? I saw it with Nancy and she got real squirmy over it.”

“She get scared by how much she liked it then?”

“I dunno, maybe? To me it looked like she felt ashamed she was even watching it.”

“There’s nothing about that to be ashamed of, Steve.”

He takes his hand off him and steps back.

“Now, if you’re all done, Princess, we’ve got a party to attend.”

He shrugs on his leather jacket, but leaves his backpack behind.

Steve likes little things like that. Tiny promises tied to physical objects.

Billy is planning on coming back to his after.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pt. 2

Billy’s Camaro announces their arrival–– Steve feels the coolest he’s ever felt as he exits the car and heads to the front door.

Billy walks a comfortable distance ahead of him as they make their way to the sound and noise.

The music is loud, the bodies plentiful, and the alcohol bountiful. It’s exactly what Steve wanted.

He just has so much shit going on right now. Everything feels like it’s suspended in the air and at any moment it’s all going to fall and Steve’s whole life will be over. Jonathan and Nancy will be gone, the kids will all be grown up, and he’ll be here, alone, and growing slowly older. This is exactly why he needs a drink. 

“Sit tight, I’ll get us some drinks,” Billy shouts into his ear over the music. It’s the second time that night he’s read his mind. 

Steve leans back against the wall and takes in the room. He loves watching parties like this, watching guys try to score girls, girls try to score drinks, and the lone dog just happy so many people came over. 

Billy’s across the room ladling the party punch into two cups. Steve doesn’t mean to let his gaze linger, but he follows Billy with his eyes as he makes his way back over.

Billy is wearing his signature grin as he approaches, a drink in each hand.

“For all I know this is horse piss and vinegar,” he says, handing Steve a cup and knocking his own into it. “Cheers, Princess.”

“Cheers.”

They both take a gulp of what turns out to be a delightful mixture of fruit, alcohol, soda, and hopefully not antifreeze.

He’s actually grown kinda fond of Billy’s nicknames. Sure, Princess is meant as a jab at his past kinghood, but it’s still royalty right? He can feel the blush crawling up his cheeks, and it’s a natural reaction to the alcohol. That’s all.

“Well, it certainly goes down smoother than it smells.” Billy says with a grin.

“Yeah for––“

“What’s going on here?” Tommy says, walking over to them, his voice incredulous and slurring. 

Steve watches Billy, he sees his eyes go wide, but nothing else changes. His demeanor doesn’t shift, and his posture doesn’t stiffen. To the untrained eye Billy would appear entirely nonplussed, but Steve knows better. 

“Just enjoying a chat with Harrington here,” Billy says, making a grand gesture to where Steve is leaning, “How’re yah’ Tommy?”

Tommy’s eyebrows are screwed comically together, and he tilts his head in confusion like dogs do.

“I feel great man, sweet party… why’re you talking to him though?” 

Tommy gestures to Steve like he’s not there, and from his shaky posture and general manner it’s obvious he’s pissed drunk.

“Because I felt like it, Tommy.” Billy says. His voice is dangerous and dripping with easy authority.

Tommy looks like he’s about to say something, and Steve can see Billy’s posture change, his muscles begin to tense, his feet planted.   
Tommy must see it too. 

“Whatever, dude, whatever,” he says, putting his hands up in exaggerated surrender, taking a step back. 

He takes another look at them and shakes his head before walking away. 

The whole interaction lasted under a minute, but Steve’s frozen. He’d been so sure that Billy was gonna flip on him, pretend he still hated him like last time. Steve would be the joke again, maybe get a new bruise. Tommy is Billy’s right hand man, after all. 

But he didn’t. Instead, he’d picked Steve. 

And that’s... something. Something Steve doesn’t know how to process. 

“On second thought, I think these drinks taste great, Billy. Wanna chug em’ with me?”

Billy looks at him with a glint in his eye.

“Absolutely, Princess.”

The flush from that first swig is steadily spreading across his face. It’s just the alcohol, though. 

Just the shitty liquor. 

_______________________________

From there the night gets more kaleidoscopic. One drink becomes two, and two becomes somewhere between 11 and 15. Steve can never really keep track because he doesn’t always finish drinks - sometimes they get lost on ledges, or stolen by sticky fingered ladies in the kitchen.

He knows he’s drunk though.

Whenever his eyes close the room spins and he feels like he’s gonna spew. He feels like a rock on the end of a string being used to demonstrate the Earth’s gravitational pull. The easy solution that he’s determined is to just not close his eyes.

Currently, he and Billy are in a heated fight over whether Racer X was really Speed’s brother or not. This is a fight Steve would definitely win, if he weren’t so fucking dizzy. 

“Listen Steve, I hear yah, but where’s the proof? What even powers the Mach 5?”

Steve laughs. Billy is so funny, so forward and assertive in a way he’d never know. He knows he must be laughing embarrassingly hard at what wasn’t even meant to be a joke, but he can’t fucking help it. 

Then suddenly there’s hands on his side, and that’s exactly what he wants! But they’re smaller then he remembers Billy’s hands being, and, colder? 

He peaks with one eye and investigates with a furtive glance to find the mystery hand belonging to Nancy Wheeler. 

“Nancy!” Steve yells out taking her into a deep hug.

“I thought you didn’t come!” he continues into the top of her head. 

Nancy’s hair smells so good and familiar. Soft and bouncy and cozy.

From this angle he can see Jonathan is with her too. He lets Nancy out of his embrace and envelops Jonathan.

“Hiya, Jonathan, I’m so glad you guys came!” He slurs out.

Jonathan is smiling, but Nancy’s face is looking like Nancy’s face again!

“Hi Billy,” she says, and Steve feels so rude for not introducing them.

“Hi Wheeler,” he replies, not overtly kind, but not entirely rude either, which for Billy is an improvement, and Steve is proud!

Nancy turns to Steve, and he really wishes this part were over. It’s like when he was a child and he’d accidentally make a stain on the rug in the living room. The rest of the day would be wracked with a hovering fear, an anticipation of yelling and trouble. 

“Steve, can we talk quick? Jonathan, I’m gonna be right back if you wanna hang with Billy for a minute.”

Steve lets himself be led around a corner and into a bathroom. 

The situation is mirroring a bad memory too closely for Steve to be comfortable.

“Steve, what the fuck?” Nancy says, “What’re you doing with him? He’s a total asshole piece of shit, and now you’re buddy-buddy after a few drinks?” 

Steve sits back onto the sink, and really tries to hear what Nancy’s saying.

“It’s just unreal to me that you’re gonna overlook him literally almost killing you a month ago, because you’re a little drunk and too nice for your own good.”

“He’s not all bad, Nancy. I know he’s prickly, but I’m telling you he’s not bad.” 

Steve knows he’s slurring pretty heavily, but he’s not worried about it. What he is worried about is this spinning bathroom. 

Nancy looks at him for a moment.

“You’re wasted, Steve, completely pissed, and you’re getting friendly with Billy fucking Hargrove.” she says, “I’m not sure if I should be laughing at you, or worried I’ll need to join the manhunt when you mysteriously disappear tomorrow.” 

“Billy’d never do that.” He says with a grin.

He remembers something then.

“Nancy, why didn’t you like The Hunger?”

“What?”

“The Hunger, that movie we saw together, with David Bowie and the vampires.”

“I remember it, yeah. Well, I guess I didn’t like the acting, and how crass it was. It felt really over the top with the sex. Also, it was so pretentious?”

“Yeah I know, but what about it didn’t you like?”

Nancy’s eyes meet his and holds them in a stare. The edges of her mouth twitch a little.

“Steve, I just told you?”

“You didn’t care about the two girls together?”

“Well I thought the sex was gratuitous…but no, I don’t really care about the here or there of them.”

“Oh, that’s- that’s nice to know,” Steve says, turning for the door. “Bye, Nancy.”

He can hear a distant and muffled “Bye, Steve”, but he’s already shuffling through the party on his path back to Billy. 

So Nancy hadn’t cared about it being two girls, she just didn't like the PDA. He hadn’t even thought of that, but it makes sense. Nancy had never been one to lock lips in the hallway, or in front of anyone for that matter. 

He gets to Billy, who looks much the same, if a little worn down. Jonathan is standing next to him a few feet away, with his arms crossed, eyes searching the crowd. 

“What’d you two talk about?” Steve asks, laughing a little. 

“Probably the same thing you and Nancy were catching up over.” Billy says with a wink. 

“I don’t think so,” Steve giggles with a sing-song voice moving himself closer to Billy.

“So what did you two talk about then?” Billy purrs.

He’s moving his body flush to Steve’s, and somehow Steve finds himself backed into the wall, which is a welcome anchor in this rotating funhouse of a party. 

“I thought I asked you that?”

“You did, Princess, but I think I want my answer first.”

Billy’s hand is snaked up inside Steve’s shirt and gripping at his waist. The feeling of warm skin on his own entirely too enticing. It feels like the completion of a prophecy that Nancy’s ‘non-Billy’ hand had foretold only minutes ago. 

“We talked about vampires, and the party, and how you’re not so bad, and then–– then I left and now I’m-I’m here.” Steve mumbles. Billy is close enough that his quiet tone doesn't matter, even with the roar of the music. 

“I’m not so bad, eh?”

Billy’s grip tightens, and maybe this will leave a bruise? The pressure is pretty hard, and it hurts, but only a little, and something about it feels so grounding right now. 

“No… no, you’re not so bad— you’re just prickly.”

Billy smirks at him.

“What’d you and Jonathan talk about?” Steve asks again, remembering his original question.

“Wasn’t much of a conversation really—your friends have your back, Harrington.”

Billy’s hand is still clenching his side, and Steve’s positive it’s gonna bruise now, but he kinda wriggles into it anyway. Billy notices though because the pressure is released, but now his thumb begins to draw circles around Steve’s tummy. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve says. 

“Jonny boy told me I’d be in deep shit if I even thought about hurting you again. Said you were too good to be hangin’ out with me, and that if even one hair from your pretty head was missing I’d wind up another one of this town’s mysteries.”

Steve starts laughing. A loud, clownish, decidedly not sexy laugh. 

“Are you serious?!”

“As a heart attack, Harrington.”

“I don’t think Jonathan would stand a chance against you. That’s like- like, not even a fight.”

Billy drops his hand from Steve’s side and grins at him.

Steve takes this moment to re-acclimate himself with his surroundings. Jonathan and Nancy are nowhere in sight, which is a bummer because he hadn’t even gotten a chance to hang out with them tonight, and the majority of the party seems to be taking place on the other end of the hall. 

Where Billy and Steve are is mostly deserted, only interrupted by the intermittent queasy stranger hurriedly looking for a toilet. 

“Let’s go dance,” Steve says, and begins to walk toward the sound, confident that Billy will follow.

He’s not that confident though, so he sneaks a furtive glance to make sure California Ken Doll is actually in his wake. 

The living room has become a makeshift disco, the furniture pushed to the side, and the rug rolled up against the wall. The music is a touch too loud, and the lighting is uninspired, but hey–– it’s a house party. 

Steve feels the song out for a minute before letting himself begin to move. He gets into a comfortable rhythm and lets his head bob. 

Dancing has always been one of Steve’s favorite things. He’s a terrible dancer, really, but he loves doing it. Loves feeling his body ebb and sway to different songs, letting the icy noises wash over him, and the constant intrigue of a new body rubbing against him. It takes him a while to feel comfortable in this living room-cum-club, but he does get into a groove–– but then he spots Billy two feet away.

And wow.

Billy looks unreal. His body’s moving in tandem to the beat, shirt fluttering around him like the most inefficient veil ever. His eyes are closed and he lets his head lull back occasionally, sweat slick hair forming little cherubim ringlets. Sometimes his movements are more dissonant, more like a fight with the music and less like a dance, and Steve likes this best. Likes looking at the rigid lines and smooth contours of Billy’s muscles. 

A number of bodies writhe between them, the odd blonde or brunette catching Billy’s attention enough to grind with for a few moments, but no one sticks around, eventually Billy casts them all away to focus on his own gravity. Steve feels like a pervert, but he can’t keep his eyes off the other boy. His own partners losing interest quickly from the complete lack of attention Steve is giving them. 

He lets himself bump into Billy every now and then, and each new bit of contact feels electric. 

A pretty girl with deep black hair cut into a short messy bob is dancing into Steve. He lets his hands fall around her as they dance, her soft curves emitting warmth as she twists and turns. She smells like apples and soap and hairspray, and it’s a nice bouquet of scents, kinda like Nancy, but not what he wants right now.

He gradually breaks away and moves back to where he’d been earlier letting himself linger by Billy.

He must be able to sense him, because his eyes open up. Pupils dilated and half lidded. This must be what Billy looks like after he’s had sex. 

There’s a pressure on him and Billy’s grabbing his forearm and dragging him through the crowd. 

They’re headed for the hallway they’d been in earlier, as they squeeze through groups of people gyrating away.  
The hallway is blissfully quiet compared to the living room, and also empty. Steve stops then. 

In what seems to be the only real constant in their relationship, Billy shoves him up against a wall. 

The sudden lack of motion is strangely dizzying, and Billy’s hands grip his side, moving erratically across his torso.

“I didn’t know you could dance, Princess.” He says panting with a raspy voice.

“I didn’t know either, I don’t think–– actually I can’t,” Steve says, because he hadn’t really thought about his own movements much at all, but he knows he’s got the grace of a water buffalo.

Billy’s so close to him, his scent washing over like tides on the beach. Spicy like pepper, but with the sweetness of cardamom and vanilla, a veil of smoke joining everything in a mist. 

And he wants to feel this, he thinks. His body clearly does, and so does his head, so he’s not quite sure what’s holding him back. Nothing is holding him back. 

Maybe it's the alcohol that’s made him feel this way, or maybe he’s delirious from some adult form of shaking baby syndrome he’s contracted from dancing, but he lets his hands grip Billy’s sides. One outside his shirt, and the other in.

And wow— Billy’s skin is like liquid fire. It’s hot and damp, and Steve’s hand that’s sliding over it revels in the sensation, searching for some type of braille on his flesh, a language to explain why he feels as good as he does. 

Billy leans into Steve, his leg pressing between Steve’s, and his head hovering not quite on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve can hear Billy panting. 

Steve’s hands have a life of their own, though, both now delightfully on Billy. His abs are so hard and interesting to touch, light pepperings of hair every so often, but not nearly as much as Steve has. He remembers what Billy had done to him before and lets one of his hands dip down to his jeans. A brave finger skids between the waistband and his skin. 

This does something to Billy because all at once Steve has a sharp pain below his ear. 

Billy’s biting his neck, and oh fuck, is he really a fucking vampire? 

But the bite doesn’t break his skin - instead his tongue is lathing over the spot alternating between gentle sucking and licking. 

Steve’s probably the hardest he’s ever been, but he's also so fucking dizzy. 

Billy pulls off from Steve’s neck, and lets his head rest on Steve as he pants.

Suddenly, someone yells, and they both look up, the spell of the moment broken by the intruder. 

“Unreal!” Nancy shouts from the other end of the hallway, and she power walks towards them. 

She hits Billy now, trying to yank him off Steve. But Steve doesn’t want that to happen, so he holds Billy to him as Nancy pulls. It’s a tug-o-war over Billy Hargrove. 

And now it makes sense to him.

“Nance! Nance! We’re not fighting, we’re just fucking around!”

She keeps hitting Billy, but looks up at Steve.

“Wha-what? He, he didn’t hit you?”

“No, Nancy, we were just kidding around.”

He pushes the mysteriously silent Billy from him and holds both his arms up.

“See, I’m all squeaky clean, nothing wrong here.”

Nancy gives him an up and down check, and her eyes linger at his crotch.

Oh yeah, he’s also still painfully hard.

Nancy turns to Billy and gives the corner of her lip an annoyed bite. 

“I’m-I’m sorry Billy,” she says. 

Billy looks at her, and he grins, surprisingly. “Water under the bridge, Wheeler.”

Steve opens his arms, inviting her into a hug.

Nancy looks at her watch, then at Billy, and back at her watch, then at Steve. 

“Wait, how the fuck are you two even getting home?”

“Billy drove.” Steve says cheerily. Billy drops his arms to his side and is making a face at Nancy. He’s right though, Nancy totally deserves this, she was just a major meanie for no reason. 

“You guys came together?” she says questioningly, and her eyes are suspicious again.

“Yeah, we did.” Billy says flatly 

“And you’re both drunk? Wait— don't answer that, you’re both obviously drunk.”

Nancy is so smart. Steve hadn’t even considered any of this until now. She’s a real catch. Probably a beast at Monopoly. 

Jonathan comes up behind Nancy and wraps an arm around her, she relaxes into the embrace, and he rubs at her side. 

They really are cute together. Annoying, and self-righteous, but cute. 

“What’s happening, Nance?” Jonathan asks.

“These two geniuses got wasted and neither of them are in any state to drive home.”

“I didn’t even say I wanted to go home, Nancy.” Steve says, because he’s sick of being treated like a child by her.

“Do you want to go home Steve?” she asks. 

He thinks for a second and remembers Billy’s bag sitting in his room. Thinks about Billy’s fingers teasing at the edges of his hips. 

“Yeah, I wanna go home.”

“Great, okay, come on dick heads, Jonathan and I are driving you home.”

_________________________________________________

Their chariot ricochets across the horizon.

The world whizzes by at an alarming pace and this makes Steve’s dizziness even more pronounced, but his head is warm and someone’s hands are in his hair, and he’s felt much, much worse before. 

He opens one eye the tiniest bit, trying to not egg on his growing nausea, and he’s greeted with the sight of Billy above him. His head is on Billy’s lap and his legs are origamied into some shape that’s allowing him to lay across the back seat relatively comfortably. 

And there’s that hand again, gently combing his hair around and grazing his scalp, the soft tingling pleasure sending spiderwebs of contentment down his spine. 

He opens his eyes fully to look at Billy, who’s already looking down at him. His expression is unreadable but his hand doesn't stop massaging Steve’s head. 

“Why’re you being so nice to me?” Steve mumbles.

Billy leans down and hovers by his face. His breath smells like jungle juice and smoke.

“I’m pretty sure Wheeler and Byers will jump me if I’m not.” Billy whispers conspiratorially into his ear.

Steve laughs, and so does Billy. He turns his head and looks up into the rear-view mirror, meeting Nancy’s eyes. She must have watched the whole exchange. She must get now that Billy’s not all bad. 

“Steve, we’re almost to your house. Billy, where do you wanna get dropped?” Her tone is clipped in the same way substitute teachers are when they want NO nonsense. 

“My stuffs at Harrington’s, so you can drop me with him.”

Nancy shifts her gaze between the two of them before landing on Steve.

“Steve is— is that what you want?” 

Steve and Billy stare at each other for a moment and Billy cocks an eyebrow at him. It’s a clear question. And suddenly Steve doesn’t know who he’s answering to. 

“Yeah, Nance, it’s- yeah, I want that.”

They pull into Steve’s driveway, and Steve untangles himself from Billy in the back as he gets out. Nancy’s rolling down her window.

“Call me tomorrow morning Steve, and Billy, just—well, see you later I guess.”

Steve can hear the worry in her voice, and he wishes he could take that away from her. Make her understand that Billy Hargrove isn’t the same guy who’d nearly killed him. 

Billy puts his arm around Steve’s shoulders and they walk to the door, both leaning on each other equally for balance. 

“Wheeler thinks I’m gonna murder you the second they pull away,” Billy whispers into Steve’s ear.

“She’s wrong…you’d definitely wait until they were down the block.”

“Hm, you’re right, I wouldn’t want them to hear your screams.”

“Hey man, I am not a screamer.”

“We’ll see about that.” Billy says pouncing on him in the hallway.

______________________________________________________________________

There’s a loud noise like an imperial Chinese gong.

And something is pulling at the back of that plant stalk thing that’s connected behind your eyes. Pounding them really.

Reality comes trickling back in, and it’s painful.

His head is going to fall off, and he’s going to puke, and his stomach is rolling around between: oh I’m gonna puke, and oh I’m gonna shit myself. 

But his head is so warm, and he’s laying on something so supple and cozily firm. He’s honestly so comfortable except for his head which is going to explode at any moment. 

He shifts a bit and feels that his foot is beneath something.

Steve opens his eyes and the light just magnifies the pain. 

Before him is the tan and hilly landscape of Billy’s chest, his hand flat on top of it just beneath Billy’s left nipple.

His body is flush against Billy, who’s laying on his back. His crotch is nestled against Billy’s hip.

He’s hard. Really hard. 

This. This is a problem. 

The noise comes again. This time more evidently the doorbell, but it still inflicts unfair amounts of pain. 

Billy stretches then, and the hand on Steve’s back strokes up and down. Billy’s other hand comes up and rubs his eyes. His face scrunching up in displeasure , and his hand pressing into his forehead.

He must be going through exactly what Steve is.

He opens his eyes and takes in the situation. Steve watches him with trepidation, waiting for a freak out. 

“G’mornin’ Princess.” He says in a gruff voice, the sleep still evident.

This is going better than Steve thought. So far no one is being launched across the room, and Steve still hasn’t hurled. 

“I think I’m gonna die.” Steve says.

He brings the hand on Billy’s chest to his face.

“Well don’t do that yet, I’m pretty sure Wheeler and Byers will put a hit on me if you do.”

The ring comes again.

“Who the fuck is that?” Billy asks with an edge of irritation. The noise must be oppressive to him as well, Steve thinks.

“I don’t know, look— uh, um, I’m sorry I kinda leeched onto you, I- I didn’t mean to make this weird, because I also honestly don’t even remember how we got here, and it’s—“

“Don’t worry Steve— it’s fine, we’re good.”

Steve nods into him, and that’s such a relief.

“Besides, I like having a warm body clutched onto me begging me for attention.”

“Hey, fuck off! I did not beg, Billy, I couldn’t even form sentences last night, I don’t even remember coming upstairs!”

“Maybe so, Stevey, but I think,” Billy shifts his leg and hips pressing himself even more into Steve, “You don’t always have to beg with words. Seem pretty desperate if you ask me.”

Steve’s raging morning wood is grinding into Billy’s hip, and he’s sure he’s flushed entirely crimson. Because this is mortifying. Completely socially apocalyptic even. 

But it feels incredible.

“B-Billy” Steve doesn’t moan out, it’s more of a manly questioning of one’s own sexual preference when faced with an apollonian god who seems committed to dismantling everything he’s ever known— as a sound. 

“Hm, what was that about not begging Steve?” Billy purrs.

Steve buries his face into the blankets in front of Billy’s chest. 

The doorbell rings again.

“You gonna get that, Princess?” Billy’s voice is mockingly sweet.

Steve snaps out of it.

“Yeah, yeah, lemme just—“ He hops from the bed pointedly ignoring the prominent tent in his pants now garnished with a small wet stain thanks to one grinning Billy, and looks across the floor for any clothes that apparently were shed at some point last night. 

It’s a pee boner. Morningwood. A typical thing all guys get, and he will not be shamed for it. 

He finds one of Billy’s salacious button downs and pulls on a pair of sweatpants before making his way downstairs.  
The ringing is no longer intermittent, instead it’s now back to back at an alarming pace. 

He’s preparing a succinct yet impassioned speech to tell the girl scout or loitering salesman to fuck off as he swings open the door.

“I told you Nancy was just drunk!” Lucas says as soon as he sees him.

“Hey! We had lots of reasons to investigate!” Dustin counters, turning to Lucas.

“Nancy was not drunk, Lucas! You weren’t even there when she came home!” Mike says exasperated. 

“Jonathan didn’t say anything to me about it though, and they were together all night last night.” Will says.

“Well Billy didn’t come home last night!” Max yells.

Steve’s head is really really going to fall off. 

“Hi guys,” he says, edging back into the forgiving comfort of the shade.

“Steve, why did Nancy say you were with Billy Hargrove last night?” Mike says.

“It’s because she was drunk! That’s what people do at these parties!” Lucas sneers.

Max looks at him, her eyes going wide, pointing.

“That’s definitely Billy’s shirt.” she says.

“There’s no way that’s Billy’s shirt, Max, Steve probably just has a similar one, right, Steve?” Dustin says, looking to Steve for validation.

Steve doesn’t say anything, his head is killing him.

“…Right, Steve?”

“Why don’t you guys come inside, yeah?”

He steps into the kitchen and takes a handful of Advil while switching the coffee pot on in the same movement. He’s gotta come up with a lie, quick, one that will appease Hawkins diligent mouse detectives, and also not be so complex that he’ll get lost in it. 

He steps back out into the living room, counting the moments before the Advil hits his bloodstream.

He looks over at the assembled group, and takes a deep breath. 

“Start at the beginning please: why are all of you here?”

They all start to talk at once and this is really really too much to deal with when he’s as hungover as he is.

“One at a time please!”

“Well,” Dustin starts, “Last night Nancy told Mike that Billy was acting suspicious and that she’d seen him with you at the party, so Mike told us, and we all agreed that you could definitely handle him on your own, but then Max said Billy didn’t come home last night and Nancy said you weren’t picking up your phone so, so- we wanted to make sure you weren't dead.”

“What the fuck is this noise, Steve?” Billy says, sauntering down the stairs wearing his outfit from last night. Steve’s honestly impressed he’d been able to puzzle it together given the amount of clothes littering his floor.

He looks around the room, then at Steve.

“Why’s the itty bitty titty committee here?”

They all start shouting at once again. Max is looking wildly between Steve and Billy, and Dustin is yelling something at Steve.

And it’s too much.

“Hey, Hey! I need everyone to shut up—now!”

He pauses for a moment and looks amongst them.

“Listen, Billy’s here, I’m here, I’m not dead, but I’m going to be if you guys keep fuckin’ screaming when I’m this hungover.”

He pinches at his temple, and tries to meditate on not vomiting, the advil and coffee swilling around inside him.

“Guys, I know you just got here, and it was for a good cause, and I’m thankful, but can yah’ please leave? I need to be alone for a bit while I wait this out.”

Steve walks to front door and opens it, turning to the incredulous tweens, and gestures outside. 

“Please guys, I promise I’ll explain everything later.”

Dustin walks toward the door glaring at Billy on his way out.

“Better be a good ass explanation, Steve.” he grumbles. 

The rest follow suit. Max is last to leave and he can hear her saying to Lucas:

“I told you that was Billy’s shirt!”

Steve clicks the door closed. 

“Sorry about that.” He says, turning to the other boy.

“Apparently everyone in Hawkins thinks I have you on my hit list.” Billy says grinning, and Steve doesn’t know how anyone can grin when they're as hungover as he must be.

“Do you want some Advil?”

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely.”

He hands Billy the bottle and watches as he swallows them down.

“So what’re we gonna tell the kids?” He asks.

“Nothin’? Why even bother coming up with anything?”

“No, no, it won’t work like that. Dustin’s like my little brother and I can tell you right now he won’t drop this until I give him a 4 page paper detailing exactly how this all went down.”

Billy clicks the cap back onto the bottle and smiles.

“I’d like to read that” he says smirking. “I’ve had a great time and all that jazz, but I really need to get going before Neil gets suspicious.”

“Yeah, shit, I forgot about that, lemme drive you.”

“Nah, thanks, Princess, but I wanna walk off this hangover before it takes over my day.”

Billy leans into him, swerving around Steve’s face and going for his neck instead, biting in the same place he had the night before. One hand cradles Steve’s lower back, holding him still. 

Steve gasps in surprise or pleasure, and he doesn’t know which. 

And just like that Billy’s out the door, his backpack swinging onto his shoulders, and his hips swaying. 

“See yah soon, Harrington” He calls, the door clicking closed for what is hopefully the final time that morning.   
Steve laughs for a second. Laughs because his head hurts so bad he wants to cry. Laughs because his underwear is gross and sticky from a surprise boner with Billy. Laughs because a group of children were hellbent on saving him. 

Steve lets his fingers ghost over where Billy had just been and gently presses into it. The subtle ache excites him in all the confusing ways Billy does.

He breathes for a second, then walks back upstairs and flopps on his bed, pulling the sheets over him and relishing in how even his own bed now smells like Billy Hargrove. 

What he needs right now is a nap. A nice. Long. Nap.

_____________________________________________________

Monday is a mess. 

Steve had spent the rest of the weekend tossing and turning in bed, trying to come to terms with the events of Friday night and Saturday morning. 

The whole thing is ridiculous. He should be worrying about killing Neil, not about if Billy thinks he’s a pervert for grinding his morning wood (that was totally not his fault) into him!

His mind is an oscillating fan, and he can’t arrive on any clear solution. 

So he does what makes sense, and goes to school on Monday like normal. 

The thing is Monday just doesn’t feel normal. He feels anxious, and sad, and so so tired.

So he does what he knows he needs to do, honestly what he should’ve done a while ago, and finds Nancy.

She’s sitting with Jonathan at their usual lunch table, her Chemistry book open and a notebook beside it as she scribbles in it. 

“Hey guys.” he says as he approaches.

It’s definitely not his most charismatic intro, but none the less effective in the situation.

“Nice to see you’re alive, Steve.” Nancy bites out, and he knows he deserves that. 

“Look, about that, I’m really sorry- I swear I didn’t even hear the phone ring.”

“Whatever, Steve, it’s fine.” Her eyes skirt back to her textbook, and she continues to write.

“I was actually hoping we could talk quick, Nance.”

“Talk away then.”

“Well- I was hoping, maybe we could do it alone? Sorry, Jonathan, no offense or anything, it’s just kinda- yeah.”

Nancy looks back at him, her eyes calculating. 

She nods once and gets up, letting him lead her to the hallway. 

“So what is it then, Steve?”

Her arms are folded tightly and her demeanor is plainly unforgiving, but it’s nice that she cares enough to hear him out regardless. 

“I just- I don’t know what I’m doing Nance.”

She doesn’t say anything so he continues.

“I’m confused. I, well you know- Billy went back to my place with me after the party and well- I, well, I was drunk, but still- I guess I...”

“I’m not stupid Steve! What, so you and Billy had some crazy threesome? Good for you! I’m glad you’re enjoying a cool rebellious phase, but don't expect me to be here smiling watching you self-destruct with that moron! ”

She looks at him incredulously, anger filling her eyes.

She’s shaking her head, but then something clicks.

“Wait- no, wait. Steve, there- there wasn’t a third person, was there?”

“Nance- I- I- “

“Oh my god, Steve I’m so sorry, God I’m- I just- I- ”

She hugs him hard and fast before pulling away.

“It’s so obvious now, you were on top of him in the car, I just thought you were trashed but, well, here we are.”

She reaches up to his neck and ghosts her fingers over the mark Billy had left. 

“W-why Steve?”

“I dunno, Nance’, it’s not like we’ve really done anything, but it’s not like I don’t want to, I just- I don’t know.”

“Of all the people, Steve, why the fuck is it Billy?”

Steve laughs at that, because there’s truth to it.

“Please don’t say anything. I don’t even really know what I just told you, so I’m not ready to explain it to anyone, really.”

“Of course- I- thanks for telling me, I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions, it’s just—“

“No, stop, it’s fine, it’s fine. I know I was acting sketchy as fuck. I just really really don't know what I’m doing, Nance.”

“I don’t think any of us do, honestly— but I pick you, Steve, I’ll have your back no matter what you choose to do, just keep me in the loop next time please?”

The relief coursing through his veins is dizzying. He’s not quite sure what he’s told Nancy, or if she really fully understands what he’s maybe said? But the relief of not carrying it all on his own is monumental. 

They hug again and Steve holds her to him, gently nuzzling the top of her head.

“Let me go, you oaf,” she laughs pushing him away playfully, “I need to get back to Jonathan before he sends out a search party— plus I think you need to go find Billy and have a talk.”

She winks at him and makes her way back down the hallway to the cafeteria. 

______________________________________

Steve waits for Billy.

He’s back where they’d first met, the pumpkins now just yellow dried stems.

It’s only been a number of days, but the vibe is entirely different.

Sure, it’s colder now, and most of the plants are entirely dead, if not on their way, but it’s his demeanor that’s different. He’s not as apprehensive as he was. Steve knows Billy now— or, he thinks he knows Billy.

Newfound confidence aside, it’s still an adrenaline rush to hear Billy’s car pull up.

“Fancy meeting you here, Princess,” Billy says, stepping out, “Wasn’t sure you’d show.”

Steve rubs his neck. Billy has this power over him that’s so confusing. Steve can go from confident and relaxed to a blibbering idiot in two seconds just because Billy looks at him.

“Of course I’m here, Billy, we have an agreement.” He says, colder than he’d expected.

“Is that all?” Billy asks. His eyes are electric and laser focused on him.

“I— I don’t know.”

“Don’t be shy, Harrington, I wanna know.” 

Steve keeps rubbing at his neck in trepidation, and Billy walks up to him, grasps his hand and guides it away from his face.

“Don’t rub that away, Princess— do you really wanna erase it?” 

His voice is commanding but gentle, and it’s only then Steve realizes he’d been rubbing at the mark on his neck. The day after it had been a deep eggplant purple, but over time it’d faded to a soft reddish shade. 

“No, I don’t.” Steve says softly.

Billy’s hand grips at his chin and he drags his thumb over Steve’s lip, pressing on it gently.

“Good.” Billy says and drops his hand.

He’s smiling at Steve.

“So, how’re we killing my dad again?”

Steve lets out a quiet, nervous laugh.

“Well, I think we should stick to our original idea. We set up the scene to look like he was doing some car maintenance, then I think you should trick him into going in the garage. Maybe say something about there being a mark on his car. Something that’d piss him off enough to go check it out.”

Billy nods.

“Then it’s as easy as locking the door and waiting.”

Billy considers it for a moment, then nods at him. 

“It’s worth a shot, I guess. When’re we doing this?”

Steve hadn’t thought about that. A date feels so final, makes everything so real. 

“In a week. It’ll give us time to iron out any wrinkles in the plan, plus we can prepare.”

Billy keeps nodding, but his eyes are cold. Sometimes Steve forgets that Neil really is Billy’s dad. Even if he’s a complete fucking asshole, it can’t be easy for him.

“Sounds good to me.” 

Billy’s giving him a predatory look and he steps into his space.

“Plus, I didn’t think you’d be the type to have any wrinkles in your shirts anyways.”

“You know what I meant, Billy.”

Billy gives him an over the top quizzical look.

“Hm, I don’t think I do?”

He’s such a goofball, and so fucking attractive, and so, so, close to Steve right now.

He leans forward and presses his lips to Billy’s.

It’s- it’s good. 

Steve moves his lips the smallest fraction and Billy surges into them, sucks his bottom lip in and gently bites on it, brings his hands to Steve’s back to pull him closer. 

His tongue is at Steve’s lips and it’s warm and gentle, pressing in softly. Steve obliges and lets his mouth fall open. Billy’s tongue explores Steve’s mouth and Steve explores how Billy tastes. He lets himself suck on it, and this elicits a gentle moan from Billy.

It feels like an accomplishment to make Billy Hargrove moan. The very same Billy Hargrove who months ago had beat him into an inch of his life was now moaning from his kiss. 

It makes him feel powerful in the same way he’d felt wearing one of Billy’s shirts to the party. He kisses back more vigorously, and chases Billy’s tongue out of his mouth with his own. He swipes his tongue against Billy’s teeth and can feel Billy smiling around him. 

Billy pulls back from Steve, their faces still only inches apart. He holds Steve’s head and looks at him, pupils wide and a loose grin on his lips.

“I’m so glad you wanted to kill my dad, Princess.”

It’s not exactly the cold water feeling of instant boner killing, but it’s close. In this moment Steve absolutely does not want to talk about murder. Fuck, it’s the last thing he wants to even think about in general, yet Billy is so cavalier about it.

“Maybe don’t talk about that right now, but I’m glad too.” 

Billy laughs at him and steps back, runs a hand through his hair. 

“Murder is a turn off then? I’ll have to remember that. Don’t wanna do the wrong thing when I have you all to myself.”

Steve blushes, but doesn’t say anything.

“I’ve gotta run, Stevey, need to pick up Max.” He winks at Steve. “Glad we had this little talk.”

He drives off, and once again Steve is left thoroughly turned on and thoroughly confused. 

He kicks at the ground before hopping into his car, images of a shirtless Billy filling his mind. And it shouldn’t be as exciting as it is. So maybe he should be less shell shocked when he’d seen how Billy’s eyes lingered on him in the shower. But at the time he’d thought they were meant to be intimidating. Steve knows it’s weird, but he fucks with weird, and honestly, he’s hoping to get fucked by weird. 

__________________________________________________________

Tuesday is stressful. 

Steve’s feeling kinda strung out. There's something about embracing a new taboo aspect of your sexuality with someone, while also simultaneously planning a murder, that really makes you wired. 

He’s jumpy, and not sleeping right, and also really aware of how he dresses.

Billy hadn’t asked for his shirt back, and Steve had cleaned it over the weekend, and when he’d seen it in his closet it just looked so inviting.

The fabric feels just as seductive as it had that night, but all together different in the context of school. 

Nancy and Jonathan are less than amused, which is annoying because Steve had thought they’d moved past all that by now. 

“Steve, something is clearly up, and I’m not dropping it.” Nancy is giving him her trademark laser-ice-beam-eyes. 

“Nothing is up, Nance! Listen, I just didn’t sleep the best last night so I'm a little out of it today.”

“Sure, Steve.”

Her lips are pursed and her eyes are full of that knowing look. 

Steve plays with the buttons on the shirt and pointedly tries not to think about their real owner. 

Nancy’s eyes flick over Steve’s shoulder and go wide. They flick back to Steve and her face is hard. 

He looks to see Billy, but something’s not right. The right side of Billy’s face is peppered with bruises, his eye recently blackened. His walk is also more stilted than usual.

Steve is - Steve is going to break down, or break something. 

He gets up from his seat and walks over to Billy, grabbing his arm and leading him towards the door. 

The anger flares up in him in waves. At first it’s an annoying disbelief, but then it’s a deep hurt, and gradually a vengeful throbbing. They’re in a quiet hallway not far from the lunchroom. 

His hand grips Billy’s face and tilts it to the side. 

“I’m gonna kill him, Billy.” 

Billy says nothing, his eyes strangely vacant. 

He’s overcome by a sudden and intense possessiveness. Billy is firm curves, and ringlets of hair like a Grecian effigy in summer, he’s swaggering walks, and flirtatious smirks, and it’s–– he is Steve’s. 

It’s so fucking unfair. His face is marred with shades of purple and sickly yellow, Steve’s fingers still gently holding as he caresses his cheek. 

He feels a hot tear stinging into his vision, and wipes it away briskly. 

“Fuck this, Billy.” 

“It’s because I was late picking up Max.”

“What, so he has the right to do this!?”

Steve gestures to him, and Billy’s eyes go to Steve’s cheek.

“This ends now— fuck waiting, we’re doing this tomorrow night.” Steve says, his voice is low and dangerous.

Billy looks at him and nods. 

Steve pulls him into a hard and long hug,rubbing at his back and nuzzling into his hair, relishing the closeness but still so emotionally spiked over the situation.

Steve kisses into his hair before pulling back.

“This will never happen again, Billy, I won’t allow it, it-it—just can’t!”

Steve's crying, he knows he is. He just feels so helpless, and it’s impossible. It's impossible to think someone would ever even want to hurt Billy. Billy who’s gorgeous and smart and wickedly funny, and maybe a bit of a dick, but not one that deserves to be beaten. 

Billy finally shows a sign of life by blinking at Steve before kissing him. 

It’s a chaste kiss, but full of emotion. 

“You should never cry over me, Princess.” Billy says, his own voice gruff–– it gives him away.

Steve can see where Billy’s eyes are welling, but doesn't say anything. He’ll leave Billy’s ego untouched.

“I mean it, Billy, we’re doing this tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.”

_______________________________________________________

 

It's a lot like building a movie set, Steve thinks, placing a wrench adjacent to an oil stained cloth on the ground. 

He’s building an illusion, the audience being the local police and coroner, but an audience nonetheless. 

He’s done a good job in his opinion, everything looks very believable. Neil’s car has the front popped open and the driver’s side door ajar. They’ll turn the car on in a bit so the radio’ll play music. Steve’s spread tools around the floor, and placed different oil and liquids on a counter. He’s even put a towel on the floor so as to make it look like he was sitting fairly comfortably. 

Everything looks perfect. 

Billy is in the other room, enacting his part of the scheme. He needs to wait for his dad to get home, then coerce him into the garage. This is gonna take some charisma, but Steve knows Billy is capable of it. He’s one of the best liars Steve’s ever met. 

Steve goes back into the living room, clicking the garage door shut behind him.

Billy is pacing in the kitchen, one hand drawn to his mouth.

“It’s gonna be fine, Billy, we’ve got this.” Steve says. He hates seeing Billy this way, all strung out and scared.

Billy looks up at him and nods but doesn’t smile.

“Just a lot of moving parts Steve, we’ve gotta make sure everything happens perfectly.”

“And we will.” Steve says, stepping into him. He wraps an arm around Billy’s front and hugs him to his chest.

“There’s no use stressing now, if anything it’ll make you less coordinated.”

Billy shifts into the embrace, leans his head back onto Steve.

“I perform very well under stress, Princess.” Billy purrs

It’s supposed to be sexy, Steve is sure, but there’s something so absurd about this blatant level of flirtation when a literal murder is about to take place that makes it goofy. Billy is being a goof.

“Yeah, yeah, keep your panties dry, Billy, I bet you’re real great under pressure.”

Billy’s laughing then, a real laugh, and it’s kinda cathartic hearing him laugh for the first time in two days. 

They stay in their hug for a while longer before they hear the tell tale scraping in the yard announcing Neil’s arrival.

Billy turns to Steve and gives him a quick hug. 

“Okay, now you go hide, Princess, and I’ll deal with Neil.”

“I’ll help with anything, Billy, we’ve got this.”

“Yeah,” Billy says, but his voice lacks conviction, “Listen, Steve, let me deal with my old man on my own, yeah? I’ll signal you if I need back up, but I- I wanna be the one to end this.”

Steve wants to object, but it’s too late to do anything about that, so he gets into the pantry and shuts the door behind him. The slates allow him to see little parallel lines of the other room, and he’s intending to use those to monitor the situation.

He watches as Billy leans into the counter, fetches himself a glass of tap water from the sink. He’s an artist painting a picture of casual nonchalance.

The seconds tick by like minutes. It’s the same sensation as when you’re playing hide and seek as a child, and you’ve hidden so well that each moment you’re not found feels like an eon.

Neil opens the front door with too much force, the light frame bouncing off the wall with a clash.

“What the fuck do you think you’re playing at, son.” Neil says harshly.

“Sorry Sir, I thought I better take the day…teachers were asking questions and all.”   
Billy gestures to his black eye.

Steve’s shocked, he hadn't asked Billy how he was gonna get Neil to come home, but he’d figured it would be something simple.

“I get two fucking phone calls, one from your school telling me you’re cuttin’ class, and one from you!”

“Thought I should let you know I’m here, Sir.”

Neil paces over to Billy and stands in front of him. 

“My car started making a weird noise today, I was wondering if you could look at it?”

Neil looks at him, then with the speed of a shark decks him in the face. It’s a cheap shot, and a brutal one. Billy staggers back into the sink, and clutches at his face. 

Neil grabs him by his shirt.

“I thought I was clear last time we had this talk? You don’t step one foot outta line” He pushes Billy back into the sink with a clang that bounces around the small room.

Steve’s watching Billy, watching his mind whirr trying to think of a solution, and it’s strange because this is Billy’s element. He’s usually so quick on the uptake and prepared with an ingenious lie, but his eyes look sad and resigned to something. 

His arm swings back and with a staggering intensity he nails Neil square in the jaw. The crack is resounding, and Steve really really hopes that’s Neil’s face and not Billy’s hand. 

Neil, who’s feet had not been planted, lurches back. He spits on the ground, then turns, looking more animal than human. 

Neil Hargrove is such a normal looking guy, and that’s the scary part. Maybe it’s why he’s gotten away with it for so long - he’s good at disguising what a monster he is. But here, it’s so plain, the piece of shit he is, his face crimson and his eyes beady.

Neil rushes Billy, but Billy’s planted his feet. They meet in a standoff, Neil swinging punches to the side of Billy’s face, while Billy evades them, and pushes back against Neil with all his strength. 

Neil’s falling back onto the ground, as Billy stands at his full height. That’s when Steve sees it, Neil reaching into his pocket grabbing for something, but Billy must not notice because his stance doesn’t waver. Billy’s huffing and rubbing at his hands.

Neil takes out a pocket knife and sinks it into Billy’s thigh.

Billy cries out in shock and deflates.

Neil takes this chance to pound into Billy punch after punch. Billy is collapsing onto the ground and Neil continues his attack, kicking, and hitting every inch of flesh he can.

And Steve can’t take it anymore. He can’t keep trying to wait for Billy to give him some undiscussed and undefined “signal”. 

Steve bursts out of the pantry and rounds the corner around the counter into the living room. 

“What the fu-” Neil begins as Steve punches him. 

Punching people hurts! It’s what they don’t tell you!

Steve’s shaking his hand before he sends in a second punch. 

Neil gathers his bearings and turns to him.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Steve swings for his face and lands another solid hit. 

Neil stumbles back, and slumps into the wall as Steve continues to round on him. 

He stomps down onto Neil’s leg and can feel the telltale crunching of bones breaking. 

It’s awful. Really. Really. Awful. It’s exactly like Evil Dead and all those gory horror movies, but so much worse because he can’t shut his eyes or cover his ears to hide from it. 

Neil cries out, loud and primal.

There’s something about inflicting that much pain on anyone, or anything that makes Steve feel so wrong, but it’s the only way to get him down. To remove him as a threat. To check on Billy. 

Steve turns away from the yelling man, and goes over to Billy who’s laying on the tile, a small pool of blood around his leg.

He kneels by him and parts his hair.

“Billy, Billy, you okay?”

Billy looks dazedly at him, but nods.

Steve pulls the pocket knife out of Billy’s leg with once quick pull and tries to rally him into standing. 

Putting Billy’s arm around his neck Steve lifts him slowly, his arm wrapping around Billy’s waist.

“I’ve got it, Princess, don’t worry about me. I know how to take a punch.” Billy says, spitting then giving a bloody grin.

Neil is on the floor in the corner, looking up at them. He looks deranged, like some suburban zombie slasher. 

He shifts his gaze to look exclusively at Billy, his face distorted in disgust. 

“You’re a fuckin’ fag,” he says full of venom, then spits on the ground before continuing. “Thought I could fix you, thought it was only a California thing— but no, it’s because you're a filthy faggot, and no son of mine.”

Steve is seeing red. It’s beyond him how someone, let along a parent, could disregard their child like this. He knows Neil would’ve done permanent damage to Billy had he not stepped in, fuck, he might have killed him. 

Steve turns to Billy.

“It’s time.” he says.

He guesses he should be thanking Neil for making it easier than it should be. Killing someone isn’t easy, but killing Neil Hargrove should be a walk in the park. Even at his most vulnerable he’s a disgusting rat of a person. 

“Fuck the plan, Steve.” Billy replies.

And Steve’s confidence immediately wavers. Billy’s second guessing this, even after Neil’s literally almost killed him. He’s trying to form a convincing argument for why they still need to kill Neil when Billy interrupts his train of thought. 

“He can’t die in the garage, I fucked all that up by letting the fight happen.”

He’s looking at Steve, and his eyes are so sad. Steve doesn’t understand it.

“I’m sorry Steve, I’m sorry you got involved. I fucked it all up, now we’ve both got blood on our hands.” 

“No Billy, fuck that! I’m the one who even came up with this! If-if we’re gonna finish this, we’re doing it together.”

“Filthy fuckin’ pair of faggots,” Neil spits from the floor. 

Billy takes hold of Steve’s hand and straightens his posture.

“Let’s do this.”

The kitchen window shatters as a black form rushes through the house and pounces on Neil.

There’s a high pitched yipping, then ripping and tearing, and the noise is unforgettable.

It’s a demi-dog. 

Steve grabs Billy and guides them into the kitchen.

Neil is screaming unabashedly as the yipping crescendos. 

His noises are getting more subdued as the monster feasts on him. The gore of the whole thing forming a pollock on the walls. 

Steve’s rushing for the pantry then, grabbing the bat he’d stashed there incase of emergency. He brings it with him to the kitchen, and Billy is rifling in the kitchen sink looking for a knife. 

So they’re not killing Neil. Cool.

They’re killing the demi-dog that’s killing Neil.

Sweet. 

Billy’s face is drained of color and he looks like he’s gonna have a panic attack, or vomit, or both? And it’s only now that Steve remembers: Billy has no idea about any of this.

Demi-dogs? Demigorgon? Eleven? Evil plants? None of it.

“I swear I can explain all of this later.” He whispers into Billy’s ear.

The carnage in the living room is getting quieter and Steve tenses in preparation, his knuckles whiting out where they’re gripping the bat.

There’s the sound of clicking nails on tile as the demi-dog rounds the corner at an amble. 

Billy makes a noise in fright, and if Steve had time to think about it he’d definitely find it endearing. 

Steve swings his bat hard in an arc and smashing it into the counter. 

He wants to scare it away if possible. Make this whole thing easier.

The Demi-dog yips, and Steve swings again.

This time it runs at them.

Steve swings hard and fast, and lands a solid hit into the side of its head. He swings again and it cries out falling back. 

The creature hisses out a screeching noise, it’s full face opening hideously. 

Billy throws his knife like a dart through the air. The knife sheathing itself in the center of the demi-dog’s mouth. 

Bullseye. 

The demi-dog falls over gurgling up murky colored blood, retching as the knife further lodges itself in its throat. It stumbles for a moment then falls again, this time very evidently dead.

Steve lets himself breathe.

Let’s himself shake a bit, and breathe some more and try not to cry. 

This whole situation is so, so fucked. Absolutely nothing went right, and now there’s two corpses on the ground, but he’s so relieved.

Billy grabs Steve by the waist and pulls him into a sloppy kiss. There’s too much tongue too fast, and Billy’s nipping at his mouth like he’s hungry for him, but Steve obliges and opens his mouth more, giving Billy better access. Billy’s locking their hips together with his hands and Steve groans into the kiss.

The friction is maddening. Billy kisses his way to Steve’s ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth. 

Steve arches his head to the side, and Billy continues sucking his way along his neck, biting and licking mark after mark into his skin. 

Billy abruptly lifts Steve onto the counter, his mouth never leaving Steve’s neck. It’s startling and there’s a small clatter as Steve’s butt clears whatever had been on the counter. Steve pulls back and grabs for Billy’s head, his fingers twisting into his hair. He leans down into a kiss enjoying this new higher angle, and lets his tongue lick at Billy’s mouth. He gets lost in the flavor of him.

It hits him then how close he was to losing this, and he lets the kiss deepen, Billy starting to make small noises into his mouth. 

Steve pulls back still holding his face and they pant into each other’s mouths. 

“You’re mine, Billy Hargrove.” 

Billy responds with another attack-like kiss, and Steve leans back into it, the intensity a turn on. 

Billy breaks away just as brusquely as he started, and Steve is left panting and flushed, his head leaning into Billy’s hands.

“I think you’re mine, Steve Harrington.” 

Steve nods, and Billy presses a hand into his bulge.

Steve lets out a moan, and Billy gives him his signature smirk.

“I’d say you’re definitely mine. Now let's take care of this.”

Billy lifts him from the counter back onto the ground, his hands tracing up and down Steve’s back.

He presses into Steve, his hand rubbing against Steve’s crotch, and kissing around Steve’s ear.

“This what you want, Princess?” He whispers.

“Y-yes, please, please Billy.” 

Billy nips at his ear again and begins to undo the front of Steve’s jeans. 

Steve knows he must look so desperate right now, but he can’t help it. He wiggles himself out of his jeans, letting them pool at his feet. 

Billy drops down, and looks up at him, one hand ghosting over his clothed penis. It’s the hottest thing Steve’s ever seen, and if he doesn’t stop teasing he’ll climax right there.

“Billy, please,” he says whining, and Billy gives him a wink.

“As you command, Princess.”

He pulls down the elastic of Steve’s boxers and lets his cock spring free.

Somewhere in his mind Steve’s nervous to be on display like this, to be so vulnerable—but it’s all being pushed to the side right now by hot liquid adrenaline. 

Billy smiles at his dick, and tilts his face up to look at him

“Damn, Princess is packin’!” 

Steve goes to say something back, but before he has the chance to Billy’s taking his length into his mouth.

It’s the most glorious feeling in the world. The warm, wet heat of Billy’s mouth. His tongue swirling around the head of his cock, while a hand works at the shaft. 

He’s making noise with abandon now, and Billy loves it. Keeps pulling off and making little comments about it. 

“So loud now, gonna love when I fuck you.” 

Steve’s head bobs back at that, a tension spreading through his body. The idea of Billy fucking him is too much right now. He wants it so desperately–– needs it. 

“I’m close- Billy, I’m close.”

Billy continues sucking with more vigor, taking his cock all the way to the base while one of his hands gives Steve’s butt a playful smack, and it sends him over the edge. His whole body tenses and convulses as he rides into the feeling of climax. His vision gives out and he squeezes his eyes shut, his load coursing into Billy’s eager mouth. 

Billy being a saint, swallows him through it. He pulls off and licks at the tip for a moment, the last dregs of clear post-cum trailing long lines to his mouth. 

He kisses his way back up Steve, hiking his shirt up in the process. Fingers tweaking Steve’s nipples. His body is so sensitive right now it hurts a little. 

Billy gets to his mouth and kisses into it. It’s a sloppy kiss, and Steve can taste himself on Billy’s lips, and that’s such an odd thing. He’s never tasted his own cum before. 

“Taste so good, Princess.” Billy whispers into his lips

Steve’s been flushed the whole time, but now in the post-orgasm self realization it’s even more embarrassing. He feels so vulnerable and on display compared to Billy’s fully clothed form. 

Then other things start catching up to him.

Like: two bodies in the living room.

“Billy, I-that felt so good, I-uh thanks for that, but we’ve really gotta go now.”

He gestures to the, well, dead bodies around them. 

Billy looks around the room and pauses when he gets to his dad’s corpse.

He nods at Steve.

“Wanna come over to my place? My parents should still be at work” Steve says lightly, he’s apprehensive about how Billy’s gonna take all of this. Sure Neil was an absolute piece of shit, but he was still his father. 

“Sounds good.” 

Steve gathers his things scattered across the house, and meets Billy in the living room a few minutes later. Billy’s staring at what remains of Neil. 

What was once Neil is now an entirely unrecognizable lump of flayed flesh and blood, the only indications that a person once existed there are the shoes and pants.

“You ready?” Steve asks.

“Absolutely.” Billy answers.

The door swings shut and clicks behind them on the way out. 

______________________________________________________________ 

 

Billy lets out a hiss and flinches, pulling his leg back.

Steve swats at his leg and grabs it.

“Stop being a baby and let me finish this, Billy!”

Billy is seated on the counter in the bathroom, while Steve sits on the toilet, an open first aid kit to his right. 

“Easy for you to fuckin’ say, Harrington!”

Steve picks up the bottle of rubbing alcohol from the floor where Billy’s sudden movement knocked it, and pours some onto a cloth. 

“Look if we don’t get this cleaned out it might get infected, and if it gets infected you’ve gotta go to the hospital, and if that happens they might connect some fuckin’ dots Billy!”

Billy scrunches his face at him mockingly, and bobs his head but doesn’t say anything. Steve knows he’s right about this.

He gently rubs at the wound with the cloth and Billy turns his face away, his bottom lip between his teeth.

The cut looks significantly sanitized to Steve, so he grabs a few bandaids from the first aid kit and begins to apply them

The first two are regular skin tone, but the last one has small purple butterflies, and Steve can’t help but laugh a little at that.

“Real fuckin’ funny, Princess.” Billy says looking down at him, but his mouth is curved into a smirk.

“Now that that’s taken care of, I was thinking I might try something.”

Billy looks at him and cocks his head in a questioning way.

“What’s that?”

Steve starts blushing again, but musters his courage.

“Maybe I could, you know, do what you did for me earlier?”

Billy’s eyes twinkle and his grin is like a predators.

“Yah know, you don’t need permission to suck my cock.” He says teasingly standing up.

He looks down at Steve as he unbuttons his jeans and lets them fall to the ground. 

Steve can see where Billy’s hard in his boxers. it’s an ego boost knowing Billy’s excited about this. Steve pulls down the elastic and lets his cock swing free. Billy’s hairier than he’d expected, not that Steve is any better, but something about his demeanor made him think he’d be more groomed. More like a pornstar honestly. 

He doesn’t mind though. In fact he kinda likes it. 

Steve takes the head into his mouth hastily. The hardest part is starting right?

It feels…odd. It just feels like having your mouth full of something, there’s nothing inherently sexual about it. No secret throat pleasure gland Nancy refrained from telling him about. He starts to bob his head and Billy lets out a low throaty noise.

And that must be where the pleasure comes in. He gets kinda high off knowing he’s making Billy feel that way; taking him apart. 

He tries to go all the way to the base and gags a little, pulling off. Billy tangles a hand into his hair guiding him back on.

Yes it’s submissive, but there’s also so much power to it. Steve sticks out his tongue and kitten licks at the underside of just the tip and Billy moans with abandon. He smiles, then takes the rest in, resuming his bobbing motion.

The hand on the back of his head becomes more demanding, pushing him further down than Steve can comfortably go. 

He likes that too apparently. Likes being under Billy’s control.

He gags again and again, but Billy keeps fucking into him.

His motions become erratic and he lets go of Steve’s head and pulls out. Steve follows in his trail though. 

He’s a hard working middle class suburban American, Billy Hargrove will not be finishing anywhere but in his mouth. 

He sucks hard on just the head of Billy’s cock and Billy pumps himself to climax.

The lines of hot globs of cum shoot into his mouth and Steve swallows around them. Billy tastes bitter and slightly salty, but maybe that’s just residual sweat. He gives Billy’s cock one last lick before standing back up.

Billy’s eyes are glassy and half lidded. He wraps an arm around Steve’s waist and pulls him in.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot, Harrington, who taught you to suck cock like that?”

He kisses Steve easily, but Steve pulls away quickly smirking.

“I guess you did.”

Billy looks at him and chases in for another kiss. 

They do eventually make it to Steve’s bedroom, and once there they sleep. Limbs tangled together and kisses traded sloppily. Steve tries to push the realities of their bloody afternoon away, to just enjoy the way Billy feels wrapped around him, and sleep.

_________________________________________________________________

It’s a phone call that wakes him.

Steve shuffles in the bed, and reaches for the phone.

“Hello?”

“Jesus christ, thank god you’re alive!” Dustin shouts.

“Hold on buddy, whats up?” Steve rubs at his eyes, and looks at the clock. 6pm. 

“Demi-dogs Steve! Demi-dogs! Apparently some are still alive! Didn’t die with the rest of the hive mind!”

This means they found what remains of Neil then. Steve snaps to full attention. 

“Max came home and-“

His stomach drops, and Steve stops hearing. They hadn’t thought about that. About who would discover the body. For some reason it just made sense to Steve that it would be the police, that they’d investigate then leave. Not a little girl coming home from school to discover the set of a horror movie in her living room.

“Is she okay, Dustin?” 

“What? Max? Yeah, yah , she’s fine— anyways like I was saying, so now we need to make sure there aren’t anymore prowling the woods, we need a plan!”

“What’s Hopper got to say about it?”

He can hear Dustin grumble. He must not have expected this from Steve. 

“That he’ll take care of it, and to stay inside.”

“So that’s what we’ll do.” He says trying to put that Billy-like authority in his tone. 

“But—

“No buts, amigo, there are hungry monsters out there and you are not gonna be their next meal on my watch.” 

“Steve but—“

“No, dude.”

“Fine!”

The phone clicks. Dustin hung up on him? This is new. 

Dustin being pissed is better than dead, Steve decides, and rolls back over looking at Billy, who to his surprise is propped up looking at him.

“They found Neil then?”

“Yeah, but the Demi-dog is there too so it’ll all be swept under the table. Max was the one who found the body, we really dropped the ball there.”

“She’s a tough kid.” Billy says, but his voice holds a question. 

Oh yeah. The demi-dog. 

Steve takes a breath.

“Hawkins is teaming with monsters and lab experiments, the government knows all about it and keeps it covered up because it’s their fault— that’s the gist, I’ll tell you more later, but for now I just wanna pretend to be normal, if that’s okay with you.” 

Billy laughs at him, and Steve hopes he doesn’t think he’s joking. 

“That’s fine with me, Princess.” 

Billy climbs on top of Steve and cages him in with his arms. He looks down at him and smiles. 

“You’re the prettiest thing in Hawkins, Harrington.”

Steve blushes.

“I knew that from day one when I saw your prissy face in the hallway. Heard everyone talk about you”

“I thought we went over this Billy, it’s: Steve, five letters, one syllable.” 

Billy smirks at him, lowering himself so his lips are brushing Steve’s ear.

“Thanks for helping me kill my dad, Steve. Now if you’d be so kind as to turn over for me, I wanna eat you out until you can’t remember your name, Princess.”

Steve whimpers a little at that.

“I-I-guess that can be arranged.” he says.

Shit’s fucked— seriously fucked, but Steve’s with Billy, and that’s all kinda falling away. He knows he’ll have to deal with it eventually, but for right now, he guesses it’s okay. 

_______________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!! Thanks for sticking this out with me! Landed a new job which is sick, also the trailer for season 3 has me hella hella pumped! Much thanks again to Nat Fraction for editing through a cold lmfao. XxxxXXXxxx
> 
> Oh, also if anyone's interested I have a super shitty playlist I was listening to while writing this on Spotify. A lot of the inspiration for this fic comes from the opening lyrics to Nanimal's "Mother Father". 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/user/tokyorose69/playlist/1I6FcfC52r5XtYTkioCXyX?si=KbqwlhpATs6nL38lqHJ0CQ

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! It’s been ages since I’ve attempted to write a fic. The process of writing this has been really cathartic for me, and I’m really excited to be sharing it! Just some quick like house keeping, this fic is operating with the removal of the “Billy hates Lucas because he’s racist” plot point, because frankly I don’t want to write a redemption arc or anything for a racist. I know what I’m doing is kinda contradictory to that, but like…lemme live. 
> 
> Anyways, I lost my like dream job that I’d landed straight out of college and spent the day after kinda numb and disappointed in myself, and I remembered this idea I’d written down about a murder plot romance; it felt like the perfect time to pick it up. Writing this has been a really lovely distraction as I apply around, and reevaluate how I calculate self worth. Anyways I know no one is looking for my gushing about this, but I thought I’d share. I’m really thankful for the fic community + I hope you enjoy !! Much luv to my editor, lifelong best friend, and comrade Nat Fraction.


End file.
